Vader Vendetta
by Mord-Sith Rahl
Summary: Luke Enchanted Challenge. Cursed by a spectre of the Force as a babe, Luke must obey Darth Vader, his unknown father. Vader redemption fic. Set between ANH & ESB. Details of Challenge stated within. Disclaimer: I own nothing. Warnings: Violence, Language.
1. Then and Now

**The Luke Enchanted Challenge **

(**Challenge Given By: **Marriella -The Bullet-)

Luke is enchanted by a being of the Force and now he is induced to do whatever he's told. Then Vader finds out about this and decides to use this to his advantage.

**Time Frame: **This can happen anywhere between ANH to ESB.

**Type: **You CANNOT turn Luke to the Dark Side. He can come close to doing so, but this is supposed to be a Vader redemption fic. (Of course it'll be interesting to see how Vader can come back to the good side when it's Luke who is forced to do whatever he's asked! chuckles evilly)

**Notes: **In case you guys haven't noticed, I (Marriella -The Bullet- ) have stolen this idea from the movie _Ella Enchanted_.

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**Prologue**

_Obi-Wan Kenobi tightened his hold on the precious cargo in his hands, blinking the sting of tears that threatened to fall. He looked down at the bundle in his arms, however, and he realized he could no longer close them off._

_Leaning back against the dirty wall, out of the way of the pedestrians walking through the streets of the city, the dam holding his tears back broke, and he let silent sobs shake his body, knowing that in this city no one would pause to give him notice._

_He had lost so much. The damned Sith couldn't leave him alone. First, they took his Master. Qui-Gon, the man who was so much like a father to him. And then they took his Apprentice. Anakin…the Chosen One…his brother. They were both dead now. Now only Vader remained._

_He looked down once more to the form in his arms, listening to it whimper as his tears fell onto its face, waking it up from its nap. Brilliant blue eyes looked up at him, cut him to the core._

_He would not let the Sith take the only thing he had left._

_Hugging the baby Skywalker to his chest, Obi-Wan drew upon the Force to soothe it, to soothe himself._

He_ would not get Luke Skywalker._

_As for the other Skywalker (_Organa now, Kenobi_, he told himself silently) she would be safe from harm, even as she hid right in front of Vader's damned eyes. Eyes so cold…eyes yellow…eyes no longer warmed by an inner light…eyes no longer…_

_Blue._

_Like Luke's._

_A tight smile pulled at Obi-Wan's lips as he looked down at the slumbering baby in his arms once more._

"_You look so much like your father, young Luke Skywalker. You look so much like…Anakin."_

_Looking around him once more, Obi-Wan took in the sight of Mos Eisley before heading on his way to the farm owned by the Lars'. Before he could take more than a few steps, however, a gnarled hand settled on his arm, stopping him. Turning around, hoping he would not have to fight with the baby in his arms, he stared down into the face of a hunched old woman, peeking out behind a tattered brown cloak._

"_Oh, my, is that a _baby_?" her scratched voice asked, the smell of refuse exiting her mouth behind rotted teeth._

"_Yes," Obi-Wan replied stiffly, tightening his hold on him subconsciously._

"_What a beautiful baby girl!"_

"_It's a boy," he replied, resisting the urge to yank the baby away from her pawing hands and run with as much speed as the Force could grant him away. That would look too suspicious._

"_Ooh, what a darling baby," the old crone cooed, begging to hold him._

"_Sorry ma'am, but he is skittish around strangers." He didn't want to let the boy go, not in this wretched hive of scum and villainy. What might happen?_

"_Oh, but he wants me!"_

_Looking down, Obi-Wan saw that she was right. _What the Force?_ Luke was reaching out for her, cooing and gurgling happily. For fear that he might drop the baby should he continue kicking in such determination, Obi-Wan relented, handing the babe over, but ready to draw his lightsaber at any sign of deceit, no matter the consequences._

"_What a darling baby. So full of Light. Such Light." Holding the baby up, she stared deep into his eyes. "A true Son of the Suns," she whispered._

_Obi-Wan got a distinct unease, and was about to take Luke back, when the woman began what sounded like a chant._

"Light from Mother and Father, Light from the Suns that divulge in two, a Son and a Father. Darkness may come, but the Light shall remain, hidden beneath the Black Mask of Death. Darkness will reign undaunted and unchallenged, until the eve of the Twentieth year.

"The Gift of Obedience, of a Son to the Father, shall bring the cataclysm down, reuniting Love with Love, Hope with Hope, Light with Light. Many trials shall you live through, many obstacles in your path.

"Once the defeat of the Star of Death is concluded, then waver the tide of Darkness and Despair will. Son of the Son, Child of the Chosen. Betrayed. With the touch of Father and Son, this gift of new life shall bloom, and the doorway to the Light shall open. Walkers of the Sky. And the Prophecy shall be complete.

"Obey._"_

_Terrified at what he had heard and yet not understood, Obi-Wan yanked Luke out of the arms of the old woman, staring into the boy's startled blue eyes for a brief second before turning to stare at the old woman…_

…_who was nowhere in sight._

_Spinning around he looked everywhere for her, but she was gone._

"_Let's get out of here Luke," he murmured, brushing his lips over the babe's forehead. Pushing the thoughts of what just happened away and out of his mind for the time being, Obi-Wan "Ben" Kenobi took the last hope of the galaxy, and hid him in plain sight._

_A few yards away, underneath the hood of a tattered brown cloak, a youthful face looked out with pure but weary brown eyes, a soft smile uplifting the tired pink lips._

_And with a shifting of the Force the figure disappeared, the empty cloak falling to the dirt floor in rags. _

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**Chapter I**

**Near Twenty Years Later…**

Sighing in annoyance, young Luke Skywalker tossed in his bed one final time before sitting up and rubbing his eyes angrily.

Groaning he swung his legs over the side of his small bed, resting his elbows on his knees and he placed his face in his palms. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his hair before standing up.

Walking over to the refresher he took a warm shower (even after the few months of being with the Rebel Alliance, the fact of _real_ water showers amazed him) in hopes of soothing him, but it only resulted in making him even more awake.

"Ben, I could really use you right now," he murmured, tired blue eyes scanning the empty hallways as he strolled down them.

Ever since blowing up the Death Star (the name sent shivers down his spine, as if it meant something to him, more than just this technical terror that could destroy whole worlds) Luke hadn't been getting enough sleep, and the sleep he did get was usually fitful, causing him to wake up at all hours of the night, when all respectful people should be sleeping away. But not him. Not the so-called Hero of the Alliance. A Jedi, they called him. He, who was just a simple farmboy.

Tonight, it was even worse.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the awful mask of Darth Vader, and heard the chilling sound of his mechanical breath. He would wield his red lightsaber, the weapon of the Jedi, of the Sith. It seemed almost sacrilegious to him, that these monsters would mimic the ways of the Jedi, who fought for peace and justice. All the Sith brought were death and despair.

But what was worse, was that in these visions Luke would see the savage brutality of Vader striking Old Ben down, and all the farmboy could do was watch and scream his anguish.

And then…

…then there were the nightmares of the evil villain raising his blood saber above his head, and striking down a man of crystal blue eyes who tried to protect his little infant son.

That image would always make Luke wake up screaming.

Everyone he had ever considered for the role of Father left him, killed…by the Empire.

His real father, Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi Knight slain by Vader. His Uncle Owen, as well as Aunt Beru, was massacred by the Imperial Troops on Tatooine, and Ben…Ben he watched die with his very own eyes, as once again that Sith Bastard struck someone close to him down.

He would get revenge for all those the Dark Lord had killed or hurt. He would kill him…he would strike him down with his father's lightsaber, and bring peace to the galaxy. He would avenge his father's death.

Running his hand through his still slightly damp hair Luke realized that he had a stalker. He paused, and noted with satisfaction that his stalker stopped too. He grinned. He took a few more steps forward, before stopping again. His stalker mimicked him. Feelings his spirits rise just a little bit, he broke off into a jog, turning abruptly into a different corridor. He had to bite back a snicker at his stalker's dismay.

Waiting for just the right moment, Luke jumped out of his hiding spot in front of his stalker, and smirked when said stalker startled back.

"Hello Artoo."

The little astromech droid beeped and whistled at him indignantly, swiveling its "head" back and forth.

"Well, you shouldn't have been following me. Threepio will blow a circuit if he activates and finds you gone."

Again the droid beeped.

"Oh, don't be so hard on him. It's nice to have someone you can connect with. Someone who understands you," Luke said softly, suddenly growing somber again. "Hey Artoo, do you know what's in a few days?"

At the negative whistle from Artoo Luke smiled softly as they began strolling down the halls again.

"My birthday."

Beep Beep Whistle Beep.

"I'll be twenty. Can you believe it? Newly commissioned commander of a flight squad, and I'll just barely be turning twenty. I bet my father would be proud of me."

Artoo was strangely silent. Luke didn't notice though, too caught up in his own thoughts, and continued on.

"I miss him, you know. I wish he could be here for me, I wish he could have been up there when I destroyed the Death Star. I wish he had been there to teach me in the ways of the Jedi. I wish…I wish that he had been there when Ben died." Running another frustrated hand in his hair he growled, before sighing sadly. "I wish he could be here for my birthday."

Artoo beeped again, wishing to console him.

"Yeah, I know people care about me here. Princess Leia, and Han, and Chewie…but they aren't family. They aren't my father. I would give up almost anything to get to know my father."

Artoo was silent again. He beeped an inquiry, which Luke could only guess at the meaning. So he only shrugged, which seemed to placate the droid, and soon they found themselves at the hanger. They walked immediately to Luke's very own X-Wing.

"Look at it Artoo. Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered, resting his palm on its side, before patting it. "What do you say we do some 'special modifications', as Han would say?"

Artoo was only too ready to start working, wanting to help Luke get his mind off of painful subjects.

After what seemed to Luke only a few minutes, he heard/felt someone approaching. That someone caused a small grin to alight upon his face.

"Leia!" he greeted, pushing himself up off the ground from where he was tinkering with a piece of the ship. He looked confused a little though. "What are you doing up this early in the morning though?"

Princess Leia Organa, for that was who she had been when she arrived, melted into simply Leia. She shook her head, a quirky smile on her lips. "Luke…it's 0700 in the morning."

"_What_!" Luke exclaimed, before checking his chrono. "Well, what do you know," he murmured. He shrugged, turning back to look at her, smiling his disarming smile. His eyes were still haunted, though, but luckily Leia didn't see it…or if she does, she didn't comment on it.

"The Alliance High Command wishes for me to tell you that a mission has come up that they want you to head," she began, becoming Princess Organa again, even as Simply Leia fought for dominance in her eyes. "You, and maybe a few other Rogues, will need to protect a vessel to and from an Imperial planet as they pick up refugees. Can you do this?"

Luke knew that the last question was not an option. Sighing he nodded. "Yeah, sure thing Princess," he smiled. "When is this mission?"

"Three days time. You can pick two or three other pilots yourself. Report to the High Command as soon as you have done so. Until then, _Commander_ Skywalker," she added with an uplift of her lips.

Luke mock-saluted. "Of course, Princess Organa!"

He watched her chuckling back as she exited, before deflating again. He turned to look over at Artoo. "Well, make sure this ship is operational, it looks like we are going to be leaving soon." He sighed again, slouching. "And the day before my birthday no less."

Artoo again beeped words of encouragement, rolling over to him. Patting his dome head affectionately he offered a small smile.

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"Hey Wedge," Luke greeted the second-in-command of Rogue Squadron. "You seen Wes and Hobbie?"

"Sorry _Boss_," Wedge grinned. "Haven't seen them."

Rolling his eyes Luke couldn't help but smile as well. "Alright, well, some important mission or something has come up, and I get to pick some lucky Rogues to go along with me. We're pretty much on escort duty as we are to follow the transport shuttle, pick up some refugees, and head back to the new base. And guess who I pick for this oh-so-exciting mission?" he grinned sadistically.

Wedge was about to answer, when he started making shooing motions and looking wide-eyed over Luke's shoulder.

"What's up Commander Lukie?"

The sadistic grin on Luke's face grew, and Wedge covered his face in his hands, marveling at Janson's stupidity. Luke slowly turned around, causing Wes, and Hobbie, to pause. That look never meant anything good.

"Just the boys I was looking for."

"Uh-oh," the two Rogues replied in unison.

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Grumbling Wes flicked angrily at his controls. "This is not what I had in mind when I said I wanted to go on an exciting mission."

"Shut up Wes," Hobbie groaned. "Find something to distract yourself with. Like, count the stars."

"Would you _both_ shut up?" Wedge growled. "We're barely five minutes into the mission."

Luke smirked as the bantering continued, flicking a few switches on his controls and glancing out the window to look at the transport vessel. A beep from Artoo made him look back down at his screen for a translation.

"Thanks Artoo," he smiled. "I hope we return in time for my birthday too. Although unless something drastic happens, we should be home free."

The droid beeped again, causing Luke to frown.

"It's Leia's birthday too? That's strange…I wish I had known. She seemed so out of it lately, it must be that this is her first official birthday as a Rebel. Since…Alderaan."

Artoo beeped something a little irritably, but it didn't get translated. Somehow, though, Luke got the distinct feeling that he was cursing.

"Did you and Threepio part on bad terms or something? You seem a little irate today."

Angry beeping.

"Would you look at that, I'm being told off by a droid. 'Mind my own business'," Luke snorted. "I'm sure."

"Hey Rogue Leader, you talking to yourself again?"

"It's a far more intelligent conversation than what you three are jabbering on about."

The sound of imitated laser fire entered the frequency.

"Wes, stop pretending to shoot TIE fighters…" Hobbie groaned.

Shaking his head Luke readied his ship. "Prepare to enter Lightspeed."

"Lightspeed ready Commander Skywalker," his Rogues replied.

"Good. Now I can get some peace and quiet."

The singular pinpoints of stars disappeared into a blur as Hyperspace was achieved, taking Luke Skywalker, a Son of the Suns and a Walker of Sky, towards his destiny.

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**AN:** As you can tell, this is a challenge. Info's up top. As this was inspired by _Ella Enchanted_, I'm going to be taking inferences from there, and putting them in here. But it _won't_ be that storyline. That'd be kind of weird…and I'm pretty sure kinda incestuous. And that's just wrong. Oh, and I have no effin' clue what number the Rogues are, so I made them up. If you know, you can tell me, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna go back and fix it. I'm effin' lazy. Oh, and of course, I've giving Lukie the Rogues a whole hell of a lot sooner than he should be receiving them, I believe, but oh well!

Ja ne!


	2. Questions

**Chapter II**

Exiting Hyperspace, Luke let out a weary breath. Clearing his throat, however, Luke cast any depressing thoughts aside and focused on his job.

"Rogue Leader. Everyone there?"

"Rogue Four. Copy that Rogue Leader," Hobbie said.

"Rogue Two. Here and ready Commander," Wedge greeted.

"Rogue Three. You guys really need to learn how to count."

Shaking his head at Wes's antics, Luke contacted the transport vessel. "_Doppelganger_, this is Commander Skywalker. Do you read me?"

"Read you loud and clear Commander Skywalker. Planet's dead ahead. One X-Wing might be able to get past, but anymore might be too dangerous and put the mission in jeopardy. Now, I'm not trying to do your job Commander, but I would choose one pilot, and then the rest of you stay up here and keep a lookout."

"My thoughts exactly Captain. Rogues, you three stay up here and keep sentry duty," he replied, switching frequencies again to address his small band of pilots. "I'll be going down to ensure safety. Spot any Imperials and sick Janson on them. That'll scare them off."

"Righto Commander!" Wes grinned.

Shaking his head once more Luke began to switch frequencies again to speak with the shuttle when Wedge's voice stopped him for a moment.

"Be careful down there Luke. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Come on Wedge, remember who you're talking to," he joked.

"That's exactly my point."

Smirking, even though Wedge couldn't see it, he sighed. "Keep a watch out. Contact me if something is amiss."

"Copy that Rogue Leader."

"Alright _Doppelganger_, let's get these diplomatic refugees and get out of here."

Glancing behind him at Artoo Luke secretly agreed with Wedge. Something just didn't feel right. Pushing the throttle slightly he began the descent, keeping his eyes out for anything. When they finally landed in a clearing of a set of woods, Luke let out a sigh of relief. _So far so good._ He flicked the switch to call to the shuttle.

"_Doppelganger_, this is Rogue Leader. Where are those refugees?"

"They're running a little late Commander Skywalker. Seeing as how we are in such a secluded area, might I suggest that we get out for fresh air and leg room?"

In the shuttle there was enough leg room, but in an X-Wing not so much. Smiling slightly at their consideration, he contemplated this. As long as he could easily take off if something didn't go according to plans, then it should be alright…right?

"Artoo, keep the ship ready for a quick departure," he told the little droid, before popping the cockpit. Jumping out, he landed lightly on his feet. He waved to the transport, and soon the three occupants were greeting him.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Commander Skywalker," the captain grinned, extending his hand. "My name's Frond, by the way. Jimmy Frond. These are my two mates, Percy Ulrich and Hanold A. Mizner. Otherwise called P.U. and HAM," he grinned even wider.

"It's nice to meet you," Luke laughed, shaking each of their hands in turn. "Luke Skywalker, though I'm sure you already know that. My counterpart back there is Artoo-Detoo," he said, indicating with his thumb over his shoulder to the droid still in the ship behind him.

"Nice to meet you Artoo!" Jimmy called, waving his hand. He frowned, however, when Artoo blew a raspberry at him. Looking over to Luke confused, he asked, "Was it something I said?"

"Artoo's just stubborn. But you'll never find a more faithful droid. We've been through a lot together," he grinned.

"Wasn't he the one that went with you when you defeated the Death Star?" Percy asked.

"Yeah, he's the one. That little guy has saved my life more than once in the few months I've known him. I owe a lot to him."

"Excuse me," Hanold mumbled, as the tell-tale sound of the radio in the shuttle squawked. "The refugees should be approaching soon."

Luke watched the man leave, and continued the small-talk with the shuttle crew, until a few minutes later Hanold came back. He nodded at Jimmy, who nodded back. Percy, meanwhile, had asked if he could go check out Artoo, to which Luke nodded.

"Ow! Blasted droid!" Percy exclaimed, jumping back to the ground and sucking on his fingers. "The little bugger zapped me!"

Luke shook his head, laughing. "He probably thought that you were getting too close to his personal space, or something."

At a questioning glance from Jimmy, Percy nodded. "All set Chief."

"Good," Jimmy replied. "Well, let's get back onboard, shall we?"

Just then Luke's own radio squawked, alerting him that Wedge or one of the other Rogues was trying to contact him. Jogging over to his X-Wing and getting in he put his headset on. He watched as the refugees appeared out of the trees, and were being filed into the transport shuttle. "Rogue Leader here. Refugees picked up and ready to leave orbit."

"Luke, get out of there!" Wedge's frantic voice cut through static.

"Wedge? Wedge, what's wrong!"

"Imperials! A whole bunch of 'em! TIEs are all over the place!"

"TIEs!"

"Worse yet…there's a Star Destroyer out here too…bigger than we've ever seen."

"Wha-" Luke suddenly stopped himself. Somehow he knew who was on that Star Destroyer. "_Vader_," he hissed. He turned to look at the shuttle, which was taking off already, so he turned back to his own controls. He began to try to start the engine, but nothing worked. "Blast!"

"Luke!"

"Wedge, my ship isn't working. Something must have happened to it." _Wasn't Artoo supposed to keep it running? _"Look, you take the shuttle to the rendezvous spot, it'll be suicide if you stay up there with all those TIEs and that Star Destroyer. _Get out of there_!"

"Luke, we aren't leaving without you!"

"That's an _order_ Wedge! Make sure the mission is completed! I'll have Artoo check the ship and meet you there as soon as possible. Now _go_!"

"…affirmative Rogue Leader."

Luke cut off the transmission, turning his attention to Artoo, who had been trying to get his attention for quite some time. "Yes, yes, what is it?" he asked irritably.

Translated words sprawled across the screen, almost faster than Luke could read.

"What? Percy did w-…messed with the ship? Working for who? Tried to deactivate you? Wha-"

Just then blaster fire could be heard, and Luke spun around in his seat.

Imperials.

Stormtroopers.

Danger.

"Artoo, keep working on the ship! I'll try to distract them and lead them away!"

Once more Luke was jumping out of his ship, landing in a roll and taking off for the trees. He dodged the blaster bolts, just barely making it into the trees in time. He hoped they would leave the droid and ship alone, so he drew the blaster on his belt out and fired randomly behind him, trying to draw their attention. If he could give Artoo enough time to fix the ship, then all he had to do was make it back to his X-Wing and fly out of there.

All of a sudden a bolt hit the tree next to him, and he only then noticed what kind of bolts they were shooting at him with.

Stunner bolts.

They wanted him alive.

Prisoner.

Fear suddenly flooded his senses, causing him to shiver. They knew it was he who had blown up the Death Star. They had to. Darth Vader was waiting for him. To interrogate him. To torture him. To kill him himself.

Images of what Leia had described were done to her tore through his mind, followed by Ben dying, and lastly the image of his nightmares; his father protecting his infant son. That last image haunted his vision, even as he half-felt the Force warn him of impending danger, and a stun bolt hit him squarely in the back, his world falling into the depths of unconsciousness.

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Groaning, Luke moved his head around groggily, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as he tried to form coherent words.

"Wha-" he began before he was interrupted by a slap upside the head. Rolling his head around, he glared up at the offender, staring into the white mask so much like a skull. It was then he realized his position; kneeling against a wall, of a shuttle, in binders no less, surrounded by at least a half dozen stormtroopers.

He didn't need to ask, or even ponder, for he knew what was going on; they were traveling to the super-sized Star Destroyer that undoubtedly Darth Vader was resigning on.

Oh Sith hell…

"On your feet," one of the troopers demanded of him, roughly pulling him up. Apparently they had already docked. Just great.

Luke stumbled as they pushed him forcefully in his shoulder blades, guiding him down the ramp and into the hanger of the large Destroyer. He was continually shoved along, until he fell to his knees, still slightly disoriented by the stunner blast. Focusing on the ground a few paces from himself, he realized he was staring at rather large black booted feet. Slowly he moved his gaze up, head leaning back as he took in the impressive sight before him.

Double Sith hell…

Ominous breathing filled the silence, emitting from a black mask of death. Fists rested on hips, as a cape seemingly spun from the Darkness of a Sith's heart itself twitched in a nonexistent wind.

Okay, screw it; it has dropped through all layers of Sith hell and crashed through the other side.

_I am _so_ screwed_, Luke thought. _Well, at least I'll be joining my father for my birthday._ A smile lifted Luke's lips at that thought. Who cares that he was about to die by the hands of the second-most-feared person (if he could be call that) in the galaxy? He was going to meet his father this day.

"What are you smiling at, Rebel?" a deep, mechanical voice asked threateningly.

Blinking Luke focused on the present once more. Working his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he tried to speak. "I _have_ a _name_," he spat.

He was rewarded with a gauntleted hand striking him across his face, sending him sprawling, gasping from the sharp sting and the electrical current that swept through him at the contact. He barely noticed the black finger brandished at him as his vision wavered.

"Let that be a lesson to you, _Rebel_. I will not put up with your insufferable intolerance."

"Yes, _My Lord_," Luke groaned as he was once again hauled to his knees by the rough hands of an Imperial trooper. He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, a shivering run down him as he tasted blood. _Remain calm Skywalker_, he whispered to himself mentally. _Don't let them see your weaknesses._

"My Lord, here are his particulars," a nameless voice from a sea of white faces announced, handing over Luke's blaster and lightsaber still attached to his belt.

Darth Vader stared down at the lightsaber in his hands, his heavy breathing halting for a moment. Luke was about to make some sort of brave scathing comment, when an all too familiar beeping assaulted his ear. His blue eyes widened as he tried to twist around to the source.

"Artoo!" he exclaimed, only to be hit upside the head again by the butt of a blaster rifle. Hissing in pain he glared at the trooper, before focusing his attention back on the little droid as it screamed, running (or rather, rolling) with unimaginable speed to crash into a nearby crate. The curses of a trooper under his breath could be heard, as he limped into view. 'Damnable droid' were one of the more prominent words used. Luke couldn't help but grin.

The grin, however, quickly disappeared into one of horror as a strong black hand grabbed him by the front of his flight suit and lifted him into the air.

"What is your name!" Vader asked dangerously, his left hand tightening on the saber, even as with his right he lifted Luke several more inches off the ground.

_I bet this is the only time anyone is ever taller than Vader_, Luke couldn't help but muse. _Except Chewie. Chewbacca's almost a whole foot taller than him. At least he doesn't have me by the throat…but wait…does this mean he doesn't know who I am? Or…who my father was?_

Vader, however, did not like the boy's hesitant pause. So, shaking him slightly, he growled. "You seemed so eager to let it be known you had a name, Rebel, tell me it, _now_!"

"Luke Skywalker," Luke found his mouth and voice working, even though he could have sworn he hadn't told them to do so. Suddenly he felt the Dark Lord drop him, and groaning he crumbled on the ground. He looked up painfully through his bangs to see Vader with his arm still in the air, fingers slack. Slowly the dark helmeted gaze moved down to look at him, then at the lightsaber in his hand, then back at him.

"What did you say?" The voice was barely a whisper, though even then it sounded deadly.

"Which time?" Luke questioned in a wheeze, trying his best to be defiant and brave, even when he wanted nothing more than to simply curl into a ball and pretend it was all a dream.

"Do not act foolish with me child," Vader hissed, pointing his finger at him again.

What happened to 'Rebel'?

Luke felt his back straighten, as well as his chin lift as if in pride…or duty. He didn't know what was going on. Since when his body start reacting without his consent in such a way? Much less listening to _Vader_.

"Who are you?" Vader asked again. When he saw the conflicting emotions on Luke's face his impatience grew. "_Tell me_!"

"My name is Luke Skywalker. I'm from the planet Tatooine in the Outer Rim. I'm the nephew of moisture farmers Owen and Beru Lars, and son of the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker," Luke gasped, not understanding why he had divulged such information. And the way he had spoken it…so…factual. Without hardly any emotion, just…telling it how it was. He was so dead.

"Sky-, Lu-, Ta-, O-, Ana-," Vader did not seem like to be able to form a coherent thought. This brought a wicked little smile to Luke's face, which was immediate beat out of him by one of the _ever lovable _stormtroopers. "_Don't touch him_!" Vader bellowed, using the Force to fling the offending trooper into the shuttle behind them.

Luke looked up with wide eyes at the massive figure…who just came to his rescue? This confused him, and he let it show on his face. Hey, he might be a Jedi-in-training, but he still had yet to master the 'blank stare' of the Jedi.

Vader's hand tightened even further on the saber (_he better not break it!_ Luke thought angrily and annoyed) before he spun around, his cape snapping in Luke's face. "Take him to cell-block TS, number 1-1-3-8," he ordered. Stopping at the door for a moment, he added, "Stun the droid."

_I'm so dead_, Luke couldn't help but think again.

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Thrown into his cell, Luke glared at the troopers' backs as they departed.

"_Echuta_!" he spat.

Grumbling Luke looked down at his still bound hands. "At least Leia had her hands free," he muttered. "But then again she wasn't the child of a Jedi." Huffing he walked over to the 'bed' and collapsed on it, slouching with his hands in is lap. "Great, Luke Skywalker. You're going to celebrate your birthday on a Star Destroyer, and not with your father, but the man, _monster_ who killed him. Just _great_."

After sitting there for a few minutes, Luke thought that he was starting to go crazy.

…_68 bottles of Gardulla on the wall, 68 bottles of Gardulla. Take one down, pass it around, 67 bottles of Gardulla on the wall…_

"You cannot hold a tune," a deep voice spoke, causing Luke to bolt upright from his now laying down position. "What are you humming?"

"My plans to kill you, avenge my father, and Ben, and take over this ship to restore order to the galaxy," Luke replied, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes and smirk.

"Apparently you humming isn't the only thing annoying," Vader spoke back, stepping fully into the room.

Luke noticed that he motioned for the guards to stay on the other side as the cell door closed. "So, uh, can we try to speed up the death and mayhem please? I'd rather not have to spend my birthday on this Force-forsaken ship with the man who murdered my father. If that's at all possible."

Vader tilted his head in such a way that he was suddenly reminded of Leia. Weird. Yeah, he was definitely going crazy.

A whoosh of breath later, and Vader was back to looking intimidating and, well, like the evil Sith Bastard that he was. "You, young Skywalker, are worth more to me alive."

Fear flooded Luke. "I'll never betray the Rebellion!" he shouted, standing up suddenly. It wasn't as intimidating or impressive as he would have hoped, seeing as he still had his hands in binders.

Vader pointed his finger at him again. "The Rebellion is full of traitors and scum. That is no place for my...for the son of a powerful Jedi."

"Leave my father out of this!" Luke screamed. He saw Vader's hand reach out, and turned his head away flinching. When he heard a clang of metal against metal he peeked open one eye, and then the next, before slowly looking down at his wrists. The binders were off, and lying on the ground listlessly. Startled he looked up at Vader with wide eyes.

"Sit," Vader ordered, and Luke was chagrined to find that he complied automatically. What was _wrong_ with him? "Good. Now, tell me all you know about your father."

Again, Luke's mouth started flying, and he had no control over it. "Until just a few months ago I really only knew his name, Anakin Skywalker. My aunt and uncle always told me he was a navigator on a Spice freighter, but somehow I always knew that that was a lie. It just had to be. Well, a few months ago when we bought this R2-Unit and a protocol droid I learned the truth. My father was a great Jedi Knight, and best friends with Old Ben Kenobi, this old hermit that no one really liked or anything, except me. Apparently Ben was a Jedi Knight too, or something, and he said he used to be called Obi-Wan. He told me that _you_ killed my father during the Purges," Luke snarled. "That's all I know, because Ben couldn't tell me more, because _you_ killed _him_ too!"

"Silence!" Vader yelled, and Luke's jaw snapped shut. "You will learn your place, Rebel," he hissed.

Great, back to 'Rebel'?

"_Kava doompa D'emperiolo stoopa_," Luke half-spat/half-muttered.

Again, the finger. "You will find it is not wise to call me a 'fool', young one."

Luke was aghast. "_You _know _Huttese_?" he exclaimed. He ran a hand through his hair. "Amazing. Darth Vader knows Huttese. Well there goes me muttering my escape plans in Huttese."

"You are an impertinent child."

"If you're going to insult me, try doing it with words I understand," Luke interjected, not knowing why he was having such morbid amusement teasing a Sith Lord, especially when it would most likely mean his death. Maybe he was hanging around Han too much…

"_Koochoo_," Vader muttered, turning around and storming out of the containment cell.

"_Mee jewz ku_," Luke grinned, waving after him.

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**AN: **Why no, Luke's containment area-place-thing is in _no_ way a reference to _THX 1138_. That's just craziness right there. Uh-huh, yup. No, seriously, it wouldn't be _Star Wars_ without one. In every effin' movie there was a reference. I'm not complainin' though, mind you, it was an awesome effin' movie, and I recommend that y'all watch it. (What am I, an advertisement?) Uh, I'll give y'all the translations as I have them (from Wookieepedia) for what Lukie/Vadie (he's gonna come kick my ass now, watch) said.

_Echuta_ - a very insulting expletive used as a curseword, possibly tranlates as '_Go to hell_'

_Kava doompa D'emperiolo stoopa_ - '_You're an Imperial fool_'

_Koochoo_ - '_Idiot_'

_Mee jewz ku_ – '_Goodbye_'

_Gardulla_ is also a beverage, not just a fat Hutt. Whether it actually comes in a bottle or not I have no effin' clue. Heh. Creative License; gotta love it.

Ja ne!


	3. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Chapter III**

Luke was in his fifteenth round of the Gardulla song for the third time (he had lost count a few times, and had to start over), when Darth Vader entered his cell again. Luke looked over from his position lying on the bunk, with his hands folded behind his head, before he started singing again.

"You are a stubborn boy," Vader commented.

"Takes one to know one," Luke reasoned, sitting up with a groan. "You know, these bunks are hardly comfortable. I have no idea how Leia was ever able to sleep. But, of course, I suppose that after being tortured one can fall asleep quite easily."

"What are you babbling on about this time?"

"Just wondering when you're going to get with the program and do whatever it is you Imps do to prisoners."

"Force, what is it with you Rebels?" Vader seemed to mutter to himself. He then seemed to realize that Luke was still there, as he switched back to his previous mood. "You have great potential, young Skywalker. You would make your father proud."

Luke's anger mounted as the figure before him spoke so freely of his father. He absently felt the Force churn around him, his anger stoking the proverbial flames. He tried to settle down, remembering that Ben had told him that such would lead to the Dark Side.

"Yes, very strong indeed. You will make a great Sith."

"Si-" Luke began in confusion, before shaking his head. "I'll never join the Sith."

"Oh really?" Vader inquired. "I don't think you are in any position to say otherwise."

"I'm not going to turn to the Dark Side, I blew up the Death Star, and I'm the son of a Jedi. Shouldn't you be _wanting_ to tear me limb-from-limb? I'm a Rebel, you're an Imp. We're natural enemies. So can you please so kindly start acting like such? Because all of this is really starting to freak me out. Look, I'm going prematurely bald!" he yelled clutching at his still-thick hair.

"You are a troublesome boy, and you will keep your mouth shut until I say otherwise," Vader snarled advancing on him.

Luke's jaw, meanwhile, seemed to get locked in a closed position. He could not budge even his lips, his mouth firmly shut. He tried opening it and speaking, but only mumbles came out. Wide-eyed he looked at Vader in horror. _What_ was going _on_? He attempted to open his mouth manually with his fingers, but they still would not be moved. His eyes started to get cross-eyed with the effort.

Vader, meanwhile, was staring in confusion at everything. What the Force was wrong with this boy? "Look at me," he growled, and was awarded with the boy's eyes hastily looking at him.

Luke wanted to look away. He wanted to run, to yell, to scream, to fight back…but his mouth couldn't open and he couldn't look away from the terrifying mask. Was this the Force? Tears pricked his eyes in fear, suddenly not feeling able to put up the brave front anymore. He couldn't even blink them away, as he was forced to continue looking. It was if he were no longer in control.

"You are to remain quiet, sensible, and calm. I do not want to hear a peep exit your mouth. Do I make myself clear?" Vader asked dangerously.

Luke could only nod.

"Good." There was a knock on the door. "Now, I believe that that is breakfast. You will eat it, then go to sleep. We can't have you running out of strength now, can we?"

With that the Dark Lord strode out of the room, causing the guard holding the ration tray to tremble in fear. Luke glared at his back, but couldn't stop himself from doing as ordered. Curiouser and curiouser.

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Darth Vader, meanwhile, was stomping to his quarters full of agitation.

Even through the red haze that was his almost constant vision, he could see the similarities. Why hadn't he noticed it before? That Force-strong youth was…his son. His and Padmé's son.

No, the Son of _Skywalker_. Of _Anakin_. Not him. Monsters don't have sons. And he was a monster. A Sith Lord. A father.

Growling at his conflicting thoughts Vader barely noticed when he reached his meditation quarters. Good thing no one was nearby, or they would have seen him staring stupidly at his own door. Although, then he would have had an excuse to kill them. He could really use killing someone right now. It seemed to help relieve stress and tension. But he was a Sith Lord; did he really need an excuse?

If it hadn't hurt so much he might have smiled wickedly. But then again, he always hurt. He's been hurting for the past twenty years.

Noticing the R2-Unit he paused, before striding over to his 'throne' and sitting within. The only throne he'll ever have. Because he wasn't strong enough to overthrow the Emperor…his _Master_. But maybe…with his son…

Flicking the switch with the Force he watched the droid come to life, and start beeping indignantly. He crossed his arms when it started crawling over to him angrily and beeping in a rather offending tone.

"I'd be careful what you say if I were you droid, before you end up in a trash heap."

The droid rolled up the stairs and over to the console of Vader's meditation pod as if he owned the place and plugged in, sending his writing sprawling across the screen, even though Vader could quite easily understand the gist of what he was saying, if not exactly everything.

Vader let out a dark chuckle. "What does it matter what happened to the boy. He is your master no longer." Vader watched the screen, and felt his mouth drop in a very unbecoming, un-_Sith_ manner. "How _dare_ you even imply such a thing! I am _Darth Vader_!"

Well, the droid promptly blew a raspberry.

"No, I am _not_ going to give him special treatment. I don't care if he is my son. I am Sith."

More beeping and translating.

"…so what if I admit he's my son. That doesn't mean I'm Ana-"

Another raspberry cut him off.

"Shouldn't you have had a memory wipe or something Artoo?"

Soft beeping reached his filtered ears, and the message on the screen startled him.

_I've missed you too, boy_, he wanted to tell him. But Sith do not miss anything. Especially not a _droid_. Even if that droid saved their life more times than one could count. Even if that droid had a personality larger than an inflamed Bantha. Even if…

"I thought for sure you'd be scrapheap by now," Vader continued, wanting to turn away from such subjects.

Artoo wrote more on the screen.

"_What_!" Vader exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair. "_He's_ still around too!" _Wow, I really know how to make droids_, he couldn't stop himself from thinking.

At Artoo's equation of a rolling of eyes, Vader again fought the urge to smile. Except, this time it wouldn't have been a mean smile. (_Blasted droids_…)

"You don't have to tell me, I'm the one who built him!"

Insistent beeping.

"No, I am _not_ admitting that I am Anak-, that I am him."

Beep beep.

"No, I haven't told Luke yet."

Beep.

"Eventually. He is not ready yet. When he is ready to embrace the power of the Dark Side, then it will be time to reveal our bond."

Raspberry.

"He _will_ turn!"

Again the 'eyes rolling'.

"I don't care what you think! It's inevitable that he will turn. He is _my_ son!"

Whistle.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean!" Sighing Vader shook his head. "I'm _arguing_ with a _droid_. If anyone ever found out I'd never live it down."

Artoo beeped.

"Oh shut up!"

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_Wake up._

For some reason Luke instantly woke up from a surprisingly restful slumber (the first in so long), only to find Darth Vader looming over him. He couldn't help but crawl instinctively back in fear.

"Get up," Vader ordered.

Again Luke found himself complying, even when he wished more than ever to lay down forever and stay asleep and be able to pretend it was all a dream still. But it wasn't to be. Because for some reason Luke had no control over his body. He tried to work his mouth, and was glad to find that he at least has control over that again. "You know, I had a dream and you were in it. Except you were a giant pink fuzzy monkey-lizard. And you sang holoshow tunes. And you had a giant top hat with a purple bow."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Luke grabbed his cheek gasping as pain exploded behind his eyes. He tasted blood again, but fought back the tears that wanted to fall. Apparently something had seriously upset the Sith Lord, for he seemed even angrier than usual. Which was saying a lot, considering. He wouldn't let them see his weaknesses though.

Luke clutched his cheek still, where Vader had backhanded him, as he glared up at the tall imposing figure. He might not be able to take him as he was, but he doubted that many people got to call _the_ Lord Vader a fuzzy pink monkey-lizard. If that was the only way he got revenge, then so be it.

"You are growing tiresome," Vader snarled, waving a finger at him. "Now come, follow me, and keep your hands at your side. And _do not speak_!" He then spun around and marched out, Luke following bewildered behind him, mouth shut tight and arms firmly placed at the side, unmoving. But that didn't stop his mind from working.

_Happy Birthday Luke Skywalker. We were right, you get to spend the day with the monster who killed your father. Isn't that special? Yippee…_

Looking around suddenly, Luke found himself entering a dark room with what looked like a giant pod inside. Brow furrowing in confusion he watched Darth Vader climb up to the pod and sit down, but not before ordering, "Kneel there," and pointing to the steps before him. Unable to do otherwise Luke obeyed.

"It seems you've finally learnt your place boy," Vader commented.

…_15 bottles of Gardulla on the wall…_

Frowning Vader crossed his arms. "Are you still humming?"

_Well, it's not like I can _speak_! You're doing some damn thing with the Force!_

"Stop glaring at me boy."

Luke's lips twitched into a frown, even as he felt his glare disappear. _I hate you. I want you to know this. I hate you. _

"What is your problem Skywalker? You seem to be sending mixed messages."

"_Problem_?" Luke gasped, taking joy in the fact that he could once again speak. "What's my _problem_? Well, uh, let's start off with you holding me hostage. I think that's subject enough to cause anyone discomfort. Oh, then let's deal with the fact that you _murdered _my _father_. That's another big one. Not to mention that this day, the _anniversary of my birth_, is a day I'd much rather spend with my friends and loved ones, not Mr. Tall-Dark-and-_Moody_!"

For once in his life since fully becoming the Sith Lord everyone knew and feared Darth Vader was eternally grateful for an interruption.

Artoo-Detoo rolled out of his hiding spot, clearly realizing that it was time to show his self for fear of what his former master might do to his current one. He might be his little Ani on the inside, but that was long buried by the betrayal and hurt that went with the Dark Side. (Seriously, the droid thought dryly, look at what happened on Mustafar…) He may be a droid, but he was a very intelligent one.

And Vader…well, Vader felt like he once again owed something (_everything_, a small voice within himself whispered) to the small droid. If he had been able to react, to strike out against his son in the fury that he had felt…he didn't know what would have happened. It still pained him to think of how he had smacked his son in his cell, even if he would never admit it.

(_Damn conscience!_)

"Artoo!" Luke exclaimed, glad to find out that he could move once more. He rushed the few steps to Artoo, throwing his arms around him, not caring that he was a droid. He was an anchor to the real world, to _his_ world. His last hope at staying sane aboard this ship of death.

Artoo beeped and whistled happily at him, but gave Vader the 'evil eye'. Vader did not know how such a thing was possible for a droid, but if one could do it, it would be Artoo-Detoo.

"I've missed you too, boy," Luke grinned, patting his dome.

Vader winced. Were those not the words he had wanted to say? He growled. "Get away from the droid child," he hissed.

With a yelp Luke found himself stumbling away from Artoo, to stand on the other side of the room. He glared at Vader. "You didn't have to push me! I could've moved myself! You keep making me do these things…"

Luke's words, however, made Darth Vader grow thoroughly confused. Had it been anyone else, he would have killed the offender. Instead, he asked, incredulously, "Pushed you? Made you? I have done no such thing. Everything you have done has been done by your own freewill." Hey, if he was going to get credited for something, he wanted to have done it in the first place!

"_No it hasn't_!" Luke yelled upset. "You sadistic cyborg bastard! You've been using the Force-"

"Cover your mouth boy!" Vader yelled, in no mood to take this abuse that this boy was flinging at him. He watched in amusement as Luke's hands flew to cover his mouth literally. The look of pure hatred Luke shot him might have caused him to pause, as a father, had the situation not been so damned hilarious. Ahem, _amusing_, _never_ hilarious. It was unbecoming of a Sith Lord to find something hilarious.

Back to the matter at hand.

Vader planned to prove whether or not his new thoughts were correct.

"I hate you," Luke muttered, although it was mumbled into gibberish by his hands.

"That's nice. Now, pat your head."

Luke let out another yelp as one of his hands started patting the top of his head.

"Interesting. Now, with your other hand rub your stomach."

"You are an evil Sith Bastard, you know this right?" Luke asked as his other hand flew to his stomach and started doing as he was told.

"I'm quite aware of that fact. Now stand on your hands."

Looking upside-down at Vader, Luke started laughing. "You know, you're not as intimidating upside-down as you are regularly."

Finding it wise not to comment on that, Vader stood up and strode over to where his boy was doing a handstand. He began pacing around him, circling him like a predator would his prey, hands clasped firmly behind his back. "Interesting. _Very_ interesting. It seems, young Skywalker, that you must do as you're told. You must obey. This could work to your disadvantage Skywalker. Like I said, it is unavoidable that you shall join the ranks of the Sith."

"I'll _never_ join you!"

"However, it seems you only obey physically. This could take time. But if need be I will slowly break you. One way or another."

"You have a huge ego, you know that right? I'm sure you and Han would get along marvellously."

Artoo beeped, rolling over to Luke.

"Yes, listen to your droid. Do not make this harder on yourself than it has to be."

Beeps and a whistle.

"Artoo, you gob of goo, don't talk to me in such a fashion!" Vader said threateningly, waving his finger at the droid. To which the droid blew a raspberry. "Why you little…! You're worse than Threepio!" he snarled.

Luke laughed. "Heh, yeah, sometimes he can be…wait a minute!" Luke yelled. The blood was beginning to roar in his ears as it all rushed to his head due to his current state, so it took him a little while to realize what Vader had just said. "_You_ know _Threepio_!"

_Of course I do, I _built_ him!_ Vader wanted to reply. Instead, however, he settled for a different version of the truth. "Yes. When your father was a boy, barely nine, I believe, he built a droid named C-3PO. Threepio became introduced to a R2-D2, and they soon became quick friends," he said sarcastically. At an indignant beep from Artoo Vader shook his finger at him. "Don't try to deny it!" Artoo looked properly subdued.

"This…is so…confusing…but…unless…you want me…to pass out…can you please…release me?" Luke grunted out, trying to fight back the dark splotches that had begun appearing in his vision.

"What? Oh, very well," Vader sighed. "You can stop doing that now." Internally he was groaning. How had forgotten that the boy would quickly faint from all the blood rushing to his head? That had just been carelessness.

"_Thank the stars_!" Luke exclaimed, toppling over immediately. He groaned as the blood levelled out once more, feeling dizzy and vaguely nauseous. "Remind me…never to… join the circus," he moaned.

"That flight suit cannot be comfortable," Vader began, though he chose to ignore the disbelieving look Luke sent him in regards to 'uncomfortable suits'. Striding over to his comm. station Vader decided it was time to put another theory to the test. A holographic face lit up.

"Yes my Lord Vader?

"Captain Piett. Where is Admiral Ozzel? Never mind. You will do. Come to my meditation quarters immediately."

"Y-yes, my Lord," Piett stumbled over his words.

Vader abruptly cut the transmissions, and spun back around to look at Luke, who had meantime stretched out on the floor, getting over the last of his vertigo. He quickly smothered the sudden urge to reach across the bond between them, the bond Luke didn't know about, and send ripples of calming strength towards him. He hated the way the boy made him feel…it was disgusting.

"Luke, I want you to wait in that spot for Captain Piett to arrive, though you may sit or stand if you so choose. I will be in my meditation pod."

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Firmus Piett shivered nervously for a moment, pausing before the doors to Lord Vader's meditation quarters. Quickly pulling himself up, straightening his shoulders in what he hoped was confidence, he entered the dark room.

He had no idea why he was asked to go there, and the consolation he had was that Lord Vader had not asked for him outright. No, first he had asked for Admiral Ozzel. And that made Piett feel so much better.

Keeping his eyes locked firmly on the pod, Piett didn't realize that there was another person in the room until the pod opened and Vader had addressed him.

"Luke," Vader barked. "Come over here and kneel."

Piett's head snapped around when he heard grumbling off to the side (_Who would dare _grumble_ when Lord Vader gave orders_, he couldn't help but think) and his eyes widened when he noticed a young man sitting next to a droid. Well, he _was_ sitting, but now he was picking himself up and starting over to the pod.

"You were nicer in my dream," the boy, Luke, grumbled as he knelt down in front of the pod, not ten feet from Piett.

"Captain Piett," Vader rumbled, but Piett caught the barely suppressed anger there and nearly felt his knees give.

"Y-yes, m-my Lord?"

"Order Skywalker to do something," he ordered still in his seat.

"M-my Lord?"

"The boy. Tell him to do something."

"Y-yes my Lord," Piett replied unsure. "Uh…stand up?"

Luke looked between Piett and Vader. He raised an eyebrow. Vader growled when the boy made no other movement, causing Piett to swallow nervously.

"What are they teaching over there at the Academy, Captain?" the Sith Lord hissed threateningly. "_Order_ him!"

"Stand up!" Piett barked, though his knees had begun shaking.

Luke yawned, and still did not get up.

"_Stand up_!" Vader snarled, causing Piett to pale.

With a yelp, however, the boy Luke shot to his feet. Piett's eyes widened again.

"_Stars_, I think you popped my knees out of joint with that command," Luke muttered, rubbing his legs, causing Piett's eyes to widen even further to an almost comical level. "You could have just asked politely, but _nooo_, you have to yell and order me around like I was some misbehaving child or something. That's not very nice."

Piett felt Vader's eyes on him, and stiffened automatically. Turning slowly to meet his masked gaze, he felt like fainting. He had only been serving for the man (_Could he be called a 'man'?_ Piett wondered idly) for maybe a month or so, but he had already witnessed at least a dozen deaths of fellow officers by the Sith Lord's hands, and probably about a dozen more that he only heard about. He desperately hopped he would not become just another statistic.

"You know, Captain Piett," Vader's deep voice rumbled once more, "I am glad that Admiral Ozzel was not available to answer my call."

"My Lord?" Piett asked, rather bravely he thought. After all, his voice only wavered a little bit.

"I trust your loyalty, Captain, and that is why you are here." Vader stood up, and strode over to the boy. "Luke," he began, before indicating Piett with an outstretched arm, "I would like you to meet Firmus Piett, Captain of my flagship _Executer_. Captain Piett, this is young Luke Skywalker, and the Force-strong individual who almost single-handedly destroyed the Death Star."

Piett couldn't help it. He let his jaw drop. Far.

He quickly snapped it open, though, when Vader's dark chuckle echoed around the room. Piett stared at the boy, who was simply glaring at the Dark Lord, who was climbing down the steps to stand near the boy.

"You forgot to mention that I was also the son of a Jedi, a Jedi myself, or rather I was in the process of becoming one before you killed Old Ben, and I also was the one who helped break out Princess Leia after you destroyed her home world." He looked down at the little droid. "Was that everything?" The droid beeped. "Oh yeah," he mumbled, before turning back, "I also think that your breathing is annoying. Though…the whole black ensemble thing is pretty cool."

Vader pointed his finger at the boy, and Piett was almost expecting young Luke Skywalker to grab his throat as he was slowly asphyxiated. Instead, Vader just wagged it. "Do I need to make you stand on your head again?"

"_NOOO!_ That's cruel and unusual punishment!"

"Then _shut up_."

Skywalker tried saying something else, Piett noticed, but nothing came out of his mouth. He glared at Vader, who simply turned back to Piett. Piett straightened subconsciously, staring up at Vader's impressive height.

"As you can see, Piett, under strange circumstances do I bring you into my confidence. I trust that word of his…_existence_…will not leak out? No even to the _Emperor_?"

Piett paled considerably. "Yes my Lord. To all other ears…Luke Skywalker does not exist." He knew he had probably just signed his death warrant just then. But looking up at the towering Vader, and the way his masked gaze lingered on the young boy…he was amazed to find out that he didn't care.

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**AN:** Wait, you mean...I'm not dead? AMAZING!

You guys sent me a lot of reviews asking me to update and such, so I thought I should finally. I don't know when next I will, or how often, but I will try to get back into the groove of things for this story. I have a couple more chapters I had started way back when (one of which is unfinished), and then after that I have to start new ones, so hopefully the next one of two will be out fairly quickly. After that some of my writing style may change as it has been a while and I have changed, but I'll try to keep the stupidity intact, neh?

As to crap about the written story...

Man, seriously, creative licenses are great. Vader just got his ship, like, almost a year before schedule, he finds out Luke is his son almost _two_ years ahead of schedule, and EU Admiral Amise Griff never existed. Heh. Man, I am on a _roll_!

And I didn't know regulated breathing could halt. I was rereading the first two chapters to reacquaint myself with my story…and I realized last chapter that I said Vader's breath halted. Well ain't that a kick in the caboose?

Mr Vader is all cute and cuddly (ish) I realise, but if you think about it he was pretty much the same (sans humour) in the movies. He just found out his son (whom he was so ecstatic about learning of the foetus of) from his wife (whom he loved since they were wee children) is still alive, so obviously Light feelings are going to pop up. In the movies he barely met him when he was all "come live with me" and then after the second time of meeting him he was all "angst! I love you! I'm going to sacrifice myself for you now! Yeah!"

Seriously people, I just made him more humorous. And the fic is humorous (one hopes, heh), so it all works! Woo. Go me.

I however had no intention of Luke acting so, well, immature, but it just came out that way. As well as Piett entering. I mean, what was up with that? After I was complaining that Piett always becomes privy to Vader's secrets in so many fics too! I wish I knew what I planned on writing. Bastards! Keeping me in the dark…damn you…


	4. Droid Love

**Chapter IV**

"Piett, where were you?"

Firmus Piett winced when he heard the Admiral's voice calling after him. It was the day after Lord Darth Vader had introduced him to the young Skywalker boy, and had in no polite terms told Piett exactly what would happen to him if word of the boy's existence ever leaked out, especially to the eager ears of the Emperor. Piett had pledged his life to Vader, and swore upon painful disembowelment that such would not exit his mouth.

"Admiral Ozzel," Piett greeted, turning to his superior. He hated lying to his superiors, but his loyalty laid completely upon his Lord Vader, whom he would follow to his, certain, death. "Lord Vader required a report on the Rebel's activities," he replied, folding his hands behind his back. "You were…uh…indisposed, sir, at the time of questioning. By the time our Lord's questioning was complete, and he felt he was properly satisfied, it was well beyond my shift, and so he released me to my quarters."

At least that part was mostly true. Piett had only had about maybe three hours of sleep until it was time to get up, as he had been in the Dark Lord's meditation quarters well into the night. He had been ordered to tell the boy to do things, which the boy had not done. Vader seemed mildly pleased by this, especially when he himself got the boy to obey the same orders. And extra ones.

Piett was still slightly confused as to the Dark Lord's amusement when he ordered the boy to do such seemingly random things. He did not know what the 'Hutt Dance' was, but apparently it was something concerning the boy's home planet. Skywalker had scowled the entire time as he moved around acting a bulbous, slug-like alien. Needless to say, Piett felt _so_ very confused.

It didn't help when they both started speaking a foreign language. Although, he had to stop a chuckle from escaping his throat when Vader had ordered the boy to hit himself, saying that he was too busy to walk over and do it himself.

Realising that a slight smirk had crept onto his face, Piett quickly quashed it when he saw Ozzel staring strangely at him. "Uh," he began hesitantly, "excuse me sir, but Lord Vader has summoned my presence, and I do not wish to be late."

"Yes," Ozzel replied hesitantly, though it was clear in his eyes that he was feeling resentment towards the captain, who was apparently higher in the Lord's good graces than he himself was. "We don't want _that_ do we?" he sneered.

Saluting Piett quickly left, heading towards Vader's meditation quarters once more.

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"Okay, so let me get this straight," Luke sighed. He looked from the captain to Vader, not quite getting it. "You're moving me out of the cell, and into an actual room?"

"Yes."

Luke quirked his brow at Vader. "You do realise that I won't be turning into a Sith, right? I'm a Jedi."

"Jedi _in training_, young Skywalker."

"Well, if you hadn't _murdered_ Old Ben!"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi got what was coming to him."

"Oh, don't be such a Hutt. It's bad enough you made me spend my birthday dancing and standing on my head, but now you want to drag Old Ben's name through the dirt? That's just low. Even for a Sith."

"And you are annoying. Even for a Jedi."

"Why thank you."

"Insolent child."

"Grumpy…thing…"

"You are trying my patience."

"You mean you had some to begin with? Wow, who would have thought?"

"Stand on your head."

"_Damn you_!"

Piett stood very still, not sure what to do. Did the kid not know that standing on his head was kind? Had anyone else spoken to the Dark Lord in such a way, they would have been dead before they hit the floor. And here he was, listening to the abnormal conversation between Dark Lord of the Sith and a young boy practically begging to be executed.

Piett feared that if he reminded Vader he was there, he would be the one at the end of the Dark Lord's anger. He was witness to all of this, and he held no doubt that all it would take was for one more stray comment from the child to send Lord Vader out for blood.

"Piett," Vader spoke so suddenly it literally made the poor captain jump. "Will you see to it that Skywalker's rooms are ready by the end of the day?"

"I can personally guarantee that they will be fully prepared within the next five hours," Piett replied dutifully. "I, uh, assume you wish them to be the ones next to you, my Lord?"

Vader was silent for a moment, and Piett trembled. "Yes," the Dark Lord answered after a few moments. "Actually, put him in the ones connected to my own."

"Yes my Lord. Immediately."

Captain Piett could not get out of there fast enough.

"I think you about made him pee his pants," Luke spoke conversationally, still upside down.

"I know," Vader replied, sounding highly amused.

Enlightenment struck Luke. "You did it on purpose!" A grin spread across his face. "You sneaky Sith you."

"You may remove yourself from that position, if you so wish," Vader spoke without emotion.

Slipping down Luke landed in a puddle, before sitting up and crossing his legs. "So, why did you allow Captain Piett to view and know all this anyways?"

"I have watched Firmus Piett's career with great interest, and personally selected him to command my ship as Captain. He is probably the most loyal one on the _Executer_. I trust him with this information, plus it will be easier to have him working for me in these matters. He is a good man, and a competent officer. But make no mistakes, if there is even a hint of betrayal from him, I will not hesitate to kill him. Though, I might grant him the mercy of a quick and _almost_-painless death."

"Well…that's…nice…" Luke replied, slowly and with an uplifted eyebrow. They sat in silence for a little while, which, strangely was not all that uncomfortable. It took Luke a little while to realise this, causing his lips to twitch in a weird combination of a smile and a frown. He knew he had to look bizarre, to say the least.

Watching Vader turn to his computer and return to whatever work the man (_Monster_, he corrected) did, Luke found it amusing that, although he most surely would die by his hands, there was something about Darth Vader that drew him in.

He watched Artoo, who tried to stay as unobtrusive as possible when Piett was around, roll over and connect to Vader's computer. When the words lit up, Vader gave the little droid a sharp glance. Luke watched, chuckling slightly, as they then got into an argument about Vader's work habit, and what exactly he was working on.

"What's that supposed to mean, Artoo you bucket of bolts!"

Luke snorted, suddenly picturing Threepio inside the dark suit of Vader. They were so much alike at times, it seemed. He felt a twinge as he, surprisingly, realised he missed the quirky protocol droid. Slowly standing up, experimentally, he began to walk over to the other occupants of the room. He grinned when he realised that his movements were not restricted. Coming up beside Artoo he patted his dome.

"Leave Vader alone boy," he laughed. "I'm sure he's very busy destroying lives, maiming the innocent, and bringing a tyrannical dictatorship to the galaxy. You know how things are."

"One of these days, child, that mouth of yours is going to get you into very deep trouble."

Luke looked askance at Vader. "Why, if you haven't killed me already, I doubt anyone else will either. Of course, there is always the Emperor…but since you're keeping me a secret from him, I doubt he'll be looking for me to eliminate."

Artoo beeped helpfully.

"See, Artoo agrees with me too!"

"Artoo is a droid, thus he does not have a brain to agree with."

A raspberry greeted their ears.

"You are nothing but trouble. Both of you. I am liable to kill you if I am forced to be in your presence much longer. You will follow me to your cell until your quarters are ready, and you will not make a sound or draw attention unto yourself. Now, come along."

Luke scowled at the back of Vader's helmet as they walked out of the room, crossing his arms like a child who had not gotten his way.

Which, considering, was not too far off from the truth.

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Ducking his head inside his rooms, Luke was surprised to find a small kind of sitting room. His mouth took on the small shape of 'o' looking around. There was a small couch and two chairs, as well as a few small data bookcases and a low table centred between the chairs and couch. Three other doors were also visible, one on each wall. Stepping further in he glanced over at Vader, who loomed behind him.

Vader then began telling him how the door on the left was to the bedroom, which was connected to the refresher, which was also accessible by the door in far wall in front of him, and the door on the right led to Vader's own, much larger, sitting room which was down a short hall connecting them.

"This…is for me?" he said softly, disbelieving. He blinked back at the room before him. "Stang, I need to get captured by Imps more often," he whispered to himself.

He smirked as he caught the sigh from Vader (how he was able to distinguish it from his regular breathing was beyond him) and walked further into the room.

"This main door we have just walked through will be locked at all times, but guards loyal to me will guard it anyways, and if need be I will set them up in front of my own doors as well."

"Doors?" Luke asked, even as he was following Vader as they crossed to the door connecting their rooms together.

"Did you not notice the other door in my meditation room? It is connected to my common room, as well as having a door leading straight out into the hall. You will have, mostly, free-reign of my rooms. When I am meditating, do not bother me. This comm. will directly connect you with Captain Piett, or myself. Do not abuse it."

Luke looked down at the little link Vader handed him, before shrugging and attaching it to the belt of his new clothes. So far all he had were nondescript black Imperial uniforms that were a little big on him, but Vader informed him that as soon as they found a trustworthy tailor, he would be given a whole new wardrobe.

"Uh, look, Darth Vader…none of this is going to make me want to betray the Rebellion any time soon, and I won't be turning to the Dark Side either. Just want to make sure this is all clear."

"We shall see," Vader replied in that infuriating way of his. "Now, go to your rooms, and get ready for bed."

Even as his feet propelled him away, Luke gaped at Vader. "But!" he tried to protest. "It's still early!"

"You need your rest for tomorrow, for we will then begin your training. Good night."

And with that the door slid shut cutting him away from view. Luke was grumbling as he was steered into the refresher, where he took a shower, brushed his teeth, and generally got ready for bed. He was amazed at the facilities, and how there was a separate bath and shower. The bath of which being almost the size of his quarters with the Rebellion, and the shower easily being able to hold a young Jedi, a defiant princess, a cocky pirate, plus a friendly (sometimes) Wookiee, as well as a temperamental astromech droid and a slightly annoying protocol droid.

You might even be able to throw in a masked Sith Lord as well, if one were particularly close to one. Then there were the large mirrors and sink/counter that ran along one wall completely. The colour scheme of it all, as well as the common and bed rooms were predominantly black.

Once completely finished and dressed (in black pyjama pants slightly larger than his size that felt like silk but were tougher and a sort of robe of similar fabric) Luke found his feet taking him to his room. Staring at the large black bed Luke couldn't deny how comfortable it looked. He almost felt like getting in on his own accord but fought against the urge. After all, Vader said only to _get ready_ for bed, not _go to_ bed.

Grinning fiendishly Luke crossed over to the window seat that showed him the lights of Hyperspace and settled down comfortably, wrapping the robe more firmly around him. Resting his forehead on the cool glass, he began to think of his friends back at the Rebel Alliance.

Did Wedge, Wes, and Hobbie get away okay? Did they get those refugees to safety? Did they get to the rendezvous point all right? What did Leia do when she found out he had been captured? Han? Did they even know he was captured? Did they think he was dead? Did they miss him?

_Snap out of it Skywalker!_ he mentally yelled at himself. _They are your friends. _Ofcourse_ they miss you!_

Sighing, watching his breath fog up the window a little, Luke couldn't help but feel depressed. He allowed himself to think for practically the first time on how he was prisoner to Darth Vader, the monster who was the cause of all his troubles, and he would likely never see his loved ones again. He would either turn…or he would die. He didn't want to die, but he wasn't going to turn either.

Hearing the door swish open he hastily wiped the tear that escaped his eyes and was rolling down his cheek. He turned to glare at Vader.

"What are you doing out of bed?" the Sith Lord asked threateningly, fists on hips in an almost scolding manner.

"You told me to get ready for bed, that was it," Luke shot back, feeling his irritation rise.

"Get into bed."

Feeling himself being flung across the room by whatever had cursed him to obey that monster, Luke again let out a very undignified yelp. Settling down and pulling the covers up, Luke snarled. "I hope you pay for all the lives you've stolen."

Luke suddenly felt very cold, and he could feel the anger radiating off of the Dark Lord, and became afraid.

"Sleep," was all Vader said, and a very chagrined Luke couldn't even fire off the retort on the tip of his tongue before he felt himself fall into unconsciousness.

Darth Vader stood there for a few minutes, just staring down at the form of his sleeping son. His words had hurt him (_No they didn't!_ he wanted to protest), but the look in his eyes, the defiant anger, that was what made him feel like his heart had just been ripped out.

His eyes, though they were lighter in shade and possibly another colour (_that_ much he could tell through his red gaze) they held the fighting spirit of his angel. He had only seen that look in two other people; Padmé…and Princess Leia.

Huffing loudly Vader stormed out of the room.

"What, does the Rebellion _breed_ people with that look or something?" he asked irritably to no-one, feeling in the mood for a good long meditation.

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If Artoo had a mouth, he would have grinned evilly.

Speeding along down the hall he bumped into the back of the captain's legs, causing him to let out a strangled yell. Artoo just beeped innocently at him. Piett, meanwhile, glared at the little droid before seeming to realise what he was doing.

Whistling and twirling his dome around Artoo laughed.

"Why he asked me to keep on eye on you is beyond me," the captain complained to himself.

Artoo 'rolled his eyes,' beeping something and comparing the officer to C-3PO.

As if knowing he was being insulted, Piett turned around to glare once more at the droid. "I'm beginning to wish Vader didn't have such trust in me." Sighing he motioned to a door. "Here are my quarters," he announced, hoping no one would spot him holding this (rather one-sided) conversation with a droid. "You are to stay in here until Lord Vader states otherwise. Do you understand?"

Bleeping compliance Artoo rolled into the room, and Piett rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, muttering under his breath.

Both wondered what they had done to warrant such a punishment.

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**AN:** Oh Kami, this chapter was short. Sorry 'bout that. And it took a while in coming. I have hardly been home or at a place where internet was readily assessable so I have been unable to put this latest chapter up. The next chapter is unfinished and will likely take even longer to go up. Sucky, I know. My muse is a wanker.

Ah...bad mental image accompanies that...gross.

Here popped up another one of those little titbits of random occurrences that I totally did not plan. Artoo and Piett? Heh…I feel so sorry for Firmus! How can I be so cruel to put that little mechanical demon with him? Sorry Firmy. Try not to kill 'im, eh? I don't think Vader or Luke would like that very much.

Next time, on _Vader Vendetta_!

The _real_ reason Luke turns to the Dark Side.

Luke: Has anyone seen Artoo?

Some Random Officer # 327 (No, Of Course That Is Not Yet Another One Of The Multiple Inside-Joke-Whatevers That Georgie Constantly Puts In His Movies, Especially Not A Specific Number Put In Every Single Star Wars Movie): Uh…I think I saw Piett shove him down the trash compacter….

Luke: OMG! You bastard! _(Sith)_

Yup. That's exactly how it went down. Screw Leia (except not, because I totally don't go into the whole incest thing), just don't mess with the droid.

Luke, drop the Artoo plushie…


	5. The Beginning of Hell

**Chapter V**

_Wake up._

Again, Luke woke up immediately, as if on command. Seeing Vader standing a few feet from his bedside he groaned and hid his head under the pillows.

"It is time to start your training," the heavy tones of the Sith Lord announced.

"I don't care!" Luke's muffled voice replied.

"Get up and out of bed," Vader ordered. "And when you are finished getting ready wait in my common room."

Glaring, but unable to disobey, Luke watched as the Dark Lord left, even as he was climbing out of bed. "Hah," Luke scoffed. "Didn't tell me to make my bed." With a triumphant smirk Luke threw the bedding almost completely back before getting ready and dressed once more. He knew it was childish, but so what? It wasn't like the monster was his father or anything. As well, since the command wasn't that strong, Luke milked it for all it was worth and walked as slowly as possible to Vader's common room.

Surprisingly it was much the same as his, only much larger, with larger proportions of the objects and furniture within. Again, the colour scheme was black though. Big surprise there.

Shuffling over to an overlarge nerf-hide seat he curled up into it, feeling almost as if he were being swallowed alive by the cushions. Resting his chin on his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs he let out a deep sigh. Life sucked. A few minutes later the door leading to Vader's meditation chambers swished open, and in strode the Sith who had made his life a living hell.

Luke would never complain about moister vaporators again.

Vader walked straight up to his chair and began to breath annoyingly (or at least, Luke thought so) in the still silence. When he finally spoke Luke was loath to admit that it startled him.

"Look at me boy."

Glaring Luke did as he was told.

"I suppose you have your father's eyes."

"Don't talk about my father," Luke hissed. "You have no right."

"I have more right than you could dream of," Vader growled, pointing threateningly at him. "Do not backtalk me, young Skywalker."

Lowering his gaze Luke found himself staring at the controls on Vader's suit. He furrowed his brow in confusion as his thoughts jumped to a new topic. "Are those inscriptions on your panel?" he asked without thinking. "I don't think I've ever seen that language before..."

"You wouldn't have," Vader intoned, the slight inflection telling that he would rather the topic dropped, but as there was not distinct order about him to do so Luke ignored it.

"Will you tell me what it says?" he asked glancing back up at Vader's face...plate.

"Why the sudden interest?"

Luke shot him an incredulous look and airily threw his hands out to the side in exaggerated exasperation. "Oh, come on! I'm a prisoner on this monstrosity, held captive by the monster in charge of said monstrosity, and you think I wouldn't want to latch on to something to take my mind away from all the monster...ness?" he finished awkwardly. He needed more monster words. "I'm going to end up dying anyways, and you can just order me not to repeat it to anyone or something, so what's the harm?"

"For being a hero of the Rebellion, you sure are pessimistic," Vader intoned, walking over to the couch and sitting stiffly on it. Luke figured he did everything stiffly. After all, his suit didn't look all that comfortable. At Luke's look he seemed to let out a weary breath, which made Luke all the more awkward that he was beginning to understand the villain's _breathing_. "Very well. It says, roughly translated, '_His deeds will not be forgiven, until he merits._'"

"Oh…well…that's nice. Uh…" Luke looked away, glad he was already feeling so awkward or else this might be an uncomfortable moment.

"Tell me, son, what is your size?" Vader asked abruptly, as if desperate to change the subject. Honestly, Sith Lords weren't very subtle were they? Or maybe Vader was just an exception. Being a little miffed about the 'son' comment, though, kept the slight grin off Luke's face at that thought, especially since he found that he had to answer. Jerk.

"Last time I checked I was roughly 1.72 meters."

"That small, huh?"

Luke bristled. "I'm _not_ small!" he exclaimed, standing up and realising (rather disturbingly, he might add) that he was pointing at the Sith Lord in perfect imitation. He quickly dropped his offending finger and collapsed back in his chair. "I think you take sick, morbid pleasure in harassing me. More so than any sane Sith…" Luke trailed off thinking about what he had just said. "Well that's an oxymoron if I ever heard one."

"Skywalker, you try my patience."

"Seriously, not to sound repetitive or unoriginal, but…you have patience to begin with?"

"I'm beginning to take back my adversity to killing you."

"You'll have to do it sooner or later. I'm not turning."

"We shall see."

Huffing Luke scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're so annoying."

"And you are exasperatingly aggravating my senses."

"See, now you're the one just being redundant."

Luke had the strange feeling that if Vader weren't wearing a helmet, he would be running his hand down his face just now. This caused Luke to snicker, ignoring the way he could practically feel the Dark Side oozing from the man before him.

"I believe it is time for your training to begin, young Skywalker. Get up and follow me. Not a sound out of you, do you hear me?"

Luke opened his mouth even as he began to stand up, but realised that no words or sounds would exit. He shut his mouth with an inaudible snap, glaring at Vader as he stood up as well. He wanted to call him all sorts of names, his anger and hatred towards the man before him coming back in full force. As they walked out of Vader's quarters Luke willed his legs to stop moving, demanded that his own body listen to him…but to no avail.

Depressingly, his feet didn't even make any noise when he walked.

Had he been thinking clearly, Luke might have taken the time to look around him some more and focus on which passageways they took. Sadly, he was glaring at the back of Vader's helmet, mentally cursing him in both Basic and Huttese.

He despised this monster that could hurt innocents, who could slice through an old man whose only faults were making friends with evil Sith _BASTARDS_ like him. To tear a family apart, simply because he was too immersed in the Dark Side. How he hated him.

"Your feelings give yourself away, Skywalker," Vader rumbled back at him, though never turning to look at him. "Your hate and anger are strong. You will make an excellent Sith."

_Oh, please,_ Luck sighed exasperatedly, though silently. _Not this whole thing again._

Luke barely realized they had reached their destination until he nearly ran straight into Darth Vader's back. He grimaced, not wanting to think about the resulting consequences of _that_ action. Peering around Vader's wide back he stared through the door that just slid open.

_A gym?_

"Let's see how much Obi-Wan has taught you," the dark voice droned.

"Somehow I get the feeling I won't like this very much…" Luke trailed off apprehensively, barely realising he could speak now.

He could almost swear Darth Vader smirked.

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Luke collapsed to the floor the instant Vader told him he could quit running. Panting he wondered how it was humanly possible to run so long, even when he was told to draw upon the Force. He was covered in sweat, and he already felt the aches in his muscles that he would undoubtedly feel even worse in the morning. It was not the first time during his 'training' that he cursed the Sith. Hell! He was even beginning to curse the Jedi! If it weren't for them he'd still be working on vaporators out on Tatooine!

Stupid Jedi.

Stupid Sith.

Stupid heavy-breathing, black-clothed, anger-inducing bastards.

Taking in a shuddering breath Luke finally managed to roll over onto his back and stare up at the imposing Sith Lord, who stood not three feet away from him. A twinge of pain in his muscles rewarded him, but he gritted his teeth to keep from wincing. He wouldn't give the jerk that victory.

Glaring up into the face of death Luke asked in a panting breath, "Can I…rest now?"

"What do you think you are doing now?" Vader inquired.

Okay, Luke got that revenge and all that went with it was evil, but seriously, would killing Vader _really_ be that bad of an idea?

"I hope…you suffer in the lowest...most cold depths of Sith Hell."

"Been there. Done that. Quite lovely actually."

Did the word '_lovely_' just cross Vader's lips? Luke stared at him in wide-eyed shock. Then they narrowed into a scowl as he slowly attempted to move into a sitting position. Vader got just as much sick joy (he used that term 'joy' _very_ loosely) tormenting Luke, as Luke did him it appeared.

Why? Who knew? But one thing was for certain; they were both just as stubbornly pigheaded (and even somewhat redundant, apparently) as the other.

"Yes, I'm sure it'd make a _great_ summer home," Luke wheezed, clutching his still burning sides. Shaking his hair roughly, causing sweat to splatter all over, Luke moaned. "So, I did crunches, laps, sit-ups, push-ups, chin-ups, jumping jacks, and many other different forms of stretching and torture. Are we done now?"

Vader seemed to contemplate this before coming to a decision. "As much as I would enjoy continuing your training, I must see to my ship. We shall be coming out of hyperspace soon, near to a planet where some rebellion activity is rumoured to be." At Luke's wide-eyed look of terror, Vader decided to alleviate his anxiety for some unknown reason. "Do not fear, it is not an _official _Rebellion. Your _friends_ are not a part of the uprising…at least, not yet. If they were not so busy with your 'refugees' they might have heard of the unease on the planet, and come to cause more chaos."

Luke defiantly did not like the way Vader had mentioned the refugees. Something was not right…

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"If I were in your position I would have already killed myself," Luke groaned.

"Lord Vader is not that bad of a taskmaster," Piett loyally replied, sitting stiffly (did all Imperials do things that way?) on said Dark Lord's couch.

"He's a bully and a jerk," Luke protested sprawled out in a chair. He found he liked that rather immature insult for the man. Jerk. Rolled much more easily off the lips than bastard did, though that too had its qualities.

"He is better than many," Piett pursed his lips. "I owe a lot to Lord Vader."

"Yeah, yeah, he was telling me how he was very interested in your career and all. How he selected you personally and blah, blah, blah." Luke let out a huge sigh. "Look, nothing personal, but I'm a Rebel. I don't like Imperials on principle. Sith in particular," Luke frowned, staring at the door leading out, knowing that even if he managed to best Piett he still would not be able to get past the guards at the door.

"Are you really able to use the Force?" Piett nearly whispered eyes wide. "Like Lord Vader?"

"Not exactly," Luke harrumphed. "I'm still only in training, and Vader uses Darker emotions to fuel his power. He'll eventually have to kill me because I refuse to change sides," he petulantly added with a defiant twist to his lips as he again crossed his arms.

"Not changing sides is one thing but why do you continue to _provoke_ the man!" Piett exclaimed, still talking quietly as if afraid of being overheard. "He'll only kill you sooner."

"That's exactly the point Captain," Luke sighed, resting his head on the back of the chair as he stared up at the ceiling. "If, rather, _when_ I don't turn my death will be long, torturous, and entirely unbearable. However, by provoking the murderous megalomaniac I can hope to achieve a quick and only slightly painful death. Lesser of two evils if you ask me," he shrugged, lifting his head to stare at the captain again.

"You have a seriously screwed up rationality."

"I know," Luke groaned.

"I have not seen Vader show such restraint in the history of the Empire," Piett returned to the conversation at hand. "Had anyone else spoken in such a tone as you yourself have, constantly insulting and defying him...that person would not have lived long enough to hit the floor. You are a rare person Luke Skywalker."

"I'm hoping to be _dead_ person rather than a Sith, which really brings into question if I have any repressed suicidal tendencies brought on by all the death in my life, e.g. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, Ben, countless Rebels and Imperials..." At Piett's look he shrugged again with a fond smile. "Old protocol droid thought to take up human psychology or something in his spare time. Threepio means well, but sometimes you honestly just want to shut him down for a few minutes of peace, you know?"

"I know the feeling," Piett replied darkly, eyes travelling to the little astromech droid that was happily connected to a small computer nearby playing a frivolous card game.

Luke smirked. Or at least it _looked_ like he was just playing a frivolous card game. Stars, these Imps were slow. Good thing Vader wasn't around.

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**Back with the Rebels...**

"Look Your Worshipfulness, I'm sure the kid is fine. He can take care of himself," Han snorted as he watched Leia pace back and forth. "He probably shot a few Imps and then took out of there. He's probably on his way _right now_."

"Forgive me if I'm quite so laid back about my friend's _life_ here," Leia snapped back, her pacing intensifying. "Some of us actually care for someone other than ourselves!"

"Hey now," Han scoffed holding his hands up as if in surrender and giving a sideways grin. "I care about more than just myself. I just happen to have a rather high sense of self-preservation."

"I'm surprised you can have a sense of anything with your head shoved so far up your—"

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Frond asked with an easy chuckle as he entered the makeshift command room.

Lips pursing Leia turned away and crossed her arms, prompting Han to indicate Frond to sit. "Have a seat Jimmy. We're just discussing Luke right now."

"Oh, Commander Skywalker," Frond grinned. "Yes, he should be arriving any time now, shouldn't he?" At Leia's frown over a shoulder Frond shrugged. "From what I saw he seems to be a pretty resourceful kid. I'm sure he's fine."

"He's barely twenty!" Leia protested.

"Unless I'm mistaken Your Highness, so are you," Han drawled.

"I've also been raised in the Senate my entire life, taught by my father to become a senator and take his place once he..." Leia trailed off as her voice broke, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she turned away again, hunching her shoulders to keep from crying.

"Princess..." Han cleared his throat, uncomfortable by the sight of a potentially weeping woman, and stood up to offer what comfort he could be placing a hand on her shoulder, half expecting Leia to shrug it off. She didn't. "Everything will turn out well in the end, you'll see."

"You are horrible at meaningless platitudes Captain Solo," Leia sniffled, though her lips did twitch a bit.

Giving her that crooked grin again Han gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I try."

Neither of them noticed Frond giving them calculating glances as he casually peered at a discarded holopad lying on the table.

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**Back with the idiot...er, I mean Luke...**

"Don't make me kill you."

"Pitiful."

"Well I'm not saying it for your benefit, am I!" Luke exclaimed, before pausing. "Well, not outside of the warning that is..."

"If that was a warning then you need serious help in the methods of intimidation."

"Shut up! I'm trying aren't I?"

"Do or do not, there is no try," Vader intoned, before suddenly jerking as if in surprise. He then mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, _I can't believe I just quoted that little toad_, but Luke couldn't be certain.

"Look Mr Dark Lord, I refuse to turn, and I sure as Sith hell am not going to do as you want."

"I think you forget the situation you have found yourself in young one," came Vader's darkly amused tone. "Now _kneel_."

Groaning, Luke unwillingly went to his knee, throwing death glares (ineffectual though they were) towards Vader's skull-like mask. "I _will_ defeat you Vader, make no mistake about it."

"Yes, I'm sure that is what all the other Jedi thought right before I annihilated them, including _your father_," Vader savagely shot back.

In a rush of anger and hatred for the man Luke lunged towards him, or at least he tried to. Knee still stuck firmly to the ground Luke could only snarl and make vague swiping motions towards the man-monster. "How dare you!" Luke shouted. "My father was more a man than you could _ever_ achieve to be! You are nothing more than a twisted monster, more machine than anything else! I _hate_ you!"

"You sound so very much like your father when you say that," Vader quietly stated, as if from a great distance in the past. Snapping back to reality, Vader pointed a threatening finger at Luke. "That fool Kenobi has clouded your thinking, just as the Rebels have continued to brainwash you. You _will_ turn."

"You may control my body, but never my mind!" Luke spat back.

"We shall see. I shall break you, child. Before you know it, you will be on your knees pledging your undying allegiance to the Emperor. Now, repeat after me..._I, Luke Skywalker, hereto vow to serve and honour Emperor Palpatine as my Lord and Master until the end of my mortal days and beyond_."

"Huh, what about that," Luke murmured after repeating the quote and promptly vomiting. "The mere thought of that bag of bones _does_ in fact make one gag." Wiping the mess off his mouth with his sleeve he glanced up at the Sith before him with a defiant gleam in his pale blue eyes. "I might say the words with my mouth, but I'll never say them with my heart."

"Your heart is merely an inconvenience. With you under my control you do not have to believe in what you do for it to happen," the Dark Lord stated while taking a definite step back from the mess on the floor. "I could order you to kill a defenceless babe with your bare hands and even with tears pouring down your cheeks you would comply."

"You're a monster!" Luke spat. "I hope your _precious_ Emperor kills you!"

"It's such a pity that Obi-Wan could not live long enough to properly teach you that thoughts of revenge just lead you more easily down the path of the Dark Side," Vader mock lamented, beginning to pace back and forth in front of him with his hands calmly clasped behind his back. His whole demeanour gave off the impression that he hadn't a care in the galaxy. Bastardly jerk.

"I'll no sooner turn to the Dark Side then my father did!" Luke snapped. Vader reacted instantly.

"You wouldn't know your father if you looked him in the face, boy!" the Dark Lord snarled, spinning around so fast his cape audibly snapped in the air and pointing that damned finger inches from Luke's face. "Your father was _pathetic_. He was weak and powerless to stop his enemies. He died a coward's death."

"My father was a _hero_!" Luke screamed back, raw emotion in his voice as he struggled in vain to get up off the floor. "_You're_ the coward!"

Flexing his fingers as if he longed for nothing so much as to smack him in the face again Vader glared down at Luke before once more spinning away towards the small room's exit. "You will repeat your devotion to the Emperor for two hours, or until I return to relieve you. Begin."

Growling at the retreating black-clad back before it was hidden from view by the closed door Luke tried to fight the order off but to no avail.

"_I, Luke Skywalker, hereto vow to serve and honour Emperor Palpatine as my Lord and Master until the end of my mortal days and beyond_. _I, Luke Skywalker, hereto vow to serve and honour Emperor Palpatine as my Lord and Master until the end of my mortal days and beyond_. _I, Luke Skywalker, hereto vow to serve and honour Emperor Palpatine_..."

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The stupid, foolish boy!

Vader growled, or at least his version of a growl, as he stomped through his ship towards the command deck. Hopefully looking out over the stars would help calm him somewhat so that he did not give in to the insane urge to throttle his offspring. But ooh, how satisfying it would feel at the moment.

Sadly, he knew he could not lose the potential that was the boy, and thus took out his frustration on some unfortunate officer of insignificant rank. Pity he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, but that's the way of life. Or death, rather. Vader was still trying to figure out what category that technically fell into. Both? Hmm.

"Lord Vader," Ozzel greeted the moment he came onto the command deck. "What a pleasure."

_Don't kill him, don't kill him, don't kill him...you need him to...for...he can...stang! Why _do_ I keep this man around?_

Vader swallowed what wanted to become another growl as he paused in his stride to the front viewing pane, knowing he would have to deal with the blasted admiral one way or another. "Is there anything of import you need me for Admiral, or did you merely wish to slow me down in inanities?" he bit out, his cape twitching suddenly in a spike of the Dark Side as his annoyance grew at the false pleasantries.

"Merely paying the proper respect m'Lord," Ozzel stated clasping his right fist to his chest as he gave a slight bow.

"I'm sure," Vader sneered back continuing on his way, only in his fantasies allowing images of a struggling and gasping Ozzel to play out. Jerk.

He sensed the unease of the crew in the pit, watching him as they always did least he suddenly lash out and kill someone else. Tempting, but he found himself reluctant to for some unknown reason. He was plenty angry, that was for sure, but instead kept those feelings churning inside him until he felt sure he would explode with them.

The boy did not understand. He would turn or he would die. Palpatine would not allow him to live if he somehow found out about Luke, unless Vader convinced the man that Luke would be his willing servant. He would be ordered to slay his own son if Luke so much as looked at the Emperor funny.

_So what? I've killed innocent younglings far younger than the boy. I killed my old master. Why should this one boy be any different than the others?_

A mesmerising memory of stunning brown eyes gazed back at him, a hand resting calmly on a slightly rounded belly as delicate lips curved into a smile. Such a kissable smile. So soft, so pleasing...

_Ani, I'm pregnant..._

Those three words clanged about inside his head as he stared with unseeing eyes out the viewing window, the streaks of stars and planets whipping past in hyperspeed. He suddenly felt very lonely.

_Perhaps it would be far kinder to kill the boy now, if he is anything like his mother...NO!_ Growling again he pushed thoughts of that treacherous woman out of his head. She betrayed him. She had her chance and she squandered it. More the shame on her. _Luke will turn. Everyone has a weak spot, and you need only to find it to take advantage of it. I will twist him to that end until he breaks and crumbles, leaving him in ruins to be reformed in whatever image I deem fit._

An image like his broken father?

Furiously he again pushed thoughts out of his head, this time the image of Vader's own weakness; brown eyes alight with joy, which was quickly being superimpose by an added image of the clearest crystalline blue.

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**AN:** Shorter than I would like, but at least it is a new chapter. Hopefully the next will be both longer _and_ shorter; longer in content and shorter in coming. Heh. Thank you to all those who left encourages replies and such, and know that they did not fall on deaf ears! They gave me the much needed ambition to continue with this story, and I'm not just saying that for more reviews too. Ta!

(Now drop the stick...you know who you are...)


	6. Insanity and Close Calls

**Chapter VI**

"Stop looking at me like that."

A moment of silence.

"I mean it! Stop!"

A low whistle.

"I order you to stop right this instant you annoying little droid!"

Piett glared furiously at the little astromech droid who made his life a living hell, even if he had just recently been made acquaintance with it. How he hated the very existence of the thing, and the way the droid's eye-sensor tracked his movements no matter what he did. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he got out of the shower that morning only to realise the blasted thing was watching him.

Perverted little creep.

He would have kicked it down the garbage chute already had Vader not ordered him to take especial care of the evil personified little fiend under penalty of a very unwanted and gruesome death. Why the droid was so special to Lord Vader he had no clue, but the fact of the matter was that Firmus Piett was no fool and he knew better than to tangle with his superiors.

Unfortunately, he had never learned the lesson of never tangling with a seriously demented and _bored_ astromech droid.

"Leave me alone while I check my inbox...WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY MESSAGES!" A couple clicks later to the outbox. "You sent WHAT to WHOM!"

Artoo beeped and whistled in laughter.

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"Piett...nice dress."

Scowling Piett poured himself a mug of caf wishing it were something stronger.

"I personally like the one with the bathing suit and heels," another of his thrice damned associates laughed.

"I dunno, the one with Vader's cape is kind of...sexy," yet another smirked.

_I'm going to kill that damned droid,_ he mentally hissed, his fingers tightening around the mug in his hands as he stepped further into the break room. The droid rolled contentedly behind him as if it were the most innocent thing in the world. _I will gladly hand my life over to Vader...how _could_ he! I didn't even know droids knew how to manipulate pictures into pin-ups..._

"Why didn't you ever tell us of your modelling career Firmus?" one of them grinned at him with a mocking lift of his eyebrows.

"What was the excuse he gave?" the first one asked. "'The _droid_ did it'?"

"I think spending so much time around Vader recently has just addled his brain a bit," the third snorted before they all fell to guffawing idiots.

Vader had seemed annoyed recently. Maybe he would be willing to dispatch some of the other captains to relieve some of his anger. Piett would have to talk to him about that.

"Still got that sweet little bikini Piett?"

Soon. Definitely soon.

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"I hate you. I hope you know that."

Beep. Whistle. Boop.

"And stay away from my terminal!"

Blip.

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"Do droids commit suicide?"

"Excuse me?"

Piett frowned at the droid mechanic before sending another glare Artoo's way. "Do. Droids. Commit. Suicide?"

"Droids are just machines, they don't have any real personality outside what their maker created in them. Thus the thought of suicide would never enter into their circuits," the mechanic frowned back from where he was fixing a rundown MSE-6 unit.

"What if the particular droid was the spawn of everything evil and corrupt and thus quite plausibly insane?"

The mechanic gave him a look that clearly said he thought _Piett_ to be the insane one. "Why do you even want to know, sir?"

"Just...if something randomly happened to..._damage_ or _destroy_ a droid, say, _crushed in the trash compactor_, could it be explained away to the suicidal tendencies of said droid?"

"Droids _aren't_ suicidal," he muttered again going back to the mouse droid.

"Well they sure are _homicidal_," Piett grumbled once again sending the evil eye the astromech droid's way. Jerk.

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"I think Piett's finally lost it," Luke mumbled from where he was kneeling before Vader, both of them staring in minor horror as Captain Piett began to laugh manically off to the side after Artoo beeped something unintelligible. "Is he going to be ok?"

"Perhaps I was a little bit hasty in placing Artoo in his care," Vader intoned after a moment, his electronic voice clearly conveying how unsure he was of his subordinate's mental health. "I think the loss of Threepio has affected the little droid greatly."

"Yeah," Luke winced in wide-eyed astonishment as Piett suddenly began to sob. "Maybe give him a few days off, I think."

"Indubitably."

Returning to the more important matter at hand Luke glared with all his worth at Vader, which was sadly not all that impressive. "I will find a way out of this curse, _my Lord_," he spat out the name Vader had ordered him to say. In his mind the words became an insult, infused with every possible foul thought imaginable in whatever language. Every time he said those words he would know he was insulting the Sith Lord in his own special brand of defiance.

"Do not think of it as a curse Skywalker, think of it as a...blessing in disguise," Vader's mocking voice intoned.

"The only blessing would be your death at my hands," Luke growled. "I will cut you down if it is the last thing I do."

"I am trembling in my boots," Vader sneered as he began to walk around Luke in a circle. "Drop your shoulders, they are too high to be truly submissive," he ordered, pushing a little on Luke's shoulders as he passed.

Doing as he was told with a disgruntled sigh Luke twisted his neck around to glare at Vader. "No matter how much I _droop_ I will _not_ be submissive!"

"Hm. We shall see young one," Vader murmured placing his hand atop Luke's head and twisting it back around. "Bend your back a little more, and lower your eyes to half-cast."

"You're going to give me back problems," Luke grumbled as he was forced to comply. "This floor seriously needs to be cleaned though."

"Thank you for volunteering," Vader said as he swished his cloak in what Luke perceived as a purposely dramatic flair.

"Wha—hey, that's not fair!"

"Honestly Skywalker, you'd think you'd realise that life is decidedly unfair. Especially the Dark Side," Vader's respiratory system let out a whoosh of air Luke had come to realise was a sigh.

"Screw the Dark Side," Luke muttered.

"I assure you, the Emperor is Dark Side personified," Vader said in a tone that was obviously a smirk.

"_EEWWW_! Never mind, forget my last statement then," Luke shuddered.

"I thought as much," Vader said. "Now, I was going to have you give me another few hours of your devotion to the Emperor, but as you obviously feel the floor too dirty for such a moment, you may clean it, and _then_ proclaim your devotion."

"With what, my tongue?" Luke scoffed.

"If you'd prefer," Vader darkly uttered, obviously becoming a little fed up with Luke's cheek. Turning swiftly to Piett, who thankfully had recovered by this time, Vader harshly ordered cleaning supplies to be brought up for 'the boy,' making Luke feel more like a disobedient child who had earned more chores than a captured Rebel pilot and Jedi-in-training.

Glaring at the floor (Vader had ordered him to keep his bowed position in the meantime) Luke grumbled about tyrannical slave masters and annoying mechanical breathing and large ships being compensation for other things until a droid entered a few minutes later bearing the materials ordered. He heard Vader approaching him after taking the supplies from the droid and watched as the black booted feet appeared in his line of vision.

Swallowing something he knew he would probably regret saying, if only for another smack across the face, Luke kept his anger to a glare as he was bid to look up into Darth Vader's mask.

"I expect this floor to be clean enough to eat off of in a respectable amount of time," Vader ordered setting down ancient looking pails of cleaner and water and extending a decidedly tiny scrubber brush.

"That'll take me _hours_!" Luke exclaimed taking the scrubber in his hand that was barely the size of his palm.

"If it exceeds too long you may add however many hours it takes to your devotional time, after which we shall continue with your physical training," Vader stated hardly remorseful.

"I'll be too tired!" Luke protested glancing around the rather large chamber they were in. "I'll be too exhausted to do your rigorous training exercises!"

"Well then you shall most assuredly sleep well tonight," Vader intoned as he again swished his cape and strode away, a flick of his hand indicating Piett and Artoo to leave as well.

Luke glanced over at Artoo who hesitated to leave, nodding at him to go with a sigh knowing that if Artoo angered Vader he might truly find himself as just a bucket full of bolts. He smiled slightly as Artoo gave him an encouraging whistle before rolling away behind the captain, Vader following in the rear.

"Begin, and do not stop until you are finished," the dark menace ordered as he strode out of the door.

Dunking the brush in the warm water Luke blinked back tears of loneliness and frustration as he poured a little cleaner on the floor and began scrubbing. His one friend on this spaceship was also nothing more than a captive; one he did not get to see as often as he would have liked either. The fact that it was droid made no difference to Luke, knowing that Artoo was perhaps more human than perhaps anyone on the blasted ship.

A little of the industrial strength cleaner splashed a little on his hand and got on his fingers, causing Luke to wince a little as it began to itch and burn in irritation. Just like Vader not to give him any gloves for this. The sterile stench of the cleaner reminded Luke a little of the medic area of the Rebel base, only to a far more intensified level, gagging him a little as it wafted up off the floor straight into his nostrils.

He wondered what the other Rebels would think if they knew he was now acting as a maid to none other than Darth Vader. Already his pants and shirt were getting sloshed with water as he made slow progress around the room; he could already foresee that he would be quite soaked by the end of it. Why couldn't Vader just get a cleaning droid in here to do this, instead of forcing Luke to do it? It was _definitely_ not going to instil any goodwill towards him.

Hissing a little as some of the cleaner got beneath his cuticles Luke huffed in annoyance and began thinking of the Dark Lord's downfall in eager expectation, hoping soon it would be nothing more than a cherished memory.

He also wondered if it was too much to hope for Leia to be the one rescuing _him_ this time. Had they realised he wouldn't be returning by now? Had they realised he was captive to Darth Vader? Or had they already left him for dead?

A cold tear fell on his burning hand, though it did little for the ache inside his chest.

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**Stationed with the Rebels...**

Chewie watched Han as Han watched Leia as Leia watched the assembly of people before her running around like a kaadu with its head cut off. Threepio no one was watching, though the protocol droid seemed just as happy to ramble out statistics and pointless information to unhearing ears as listening ones. Honestly, no one yet had told him to shut up, so overall it was a good day.

For everyone _else_ however...

"I don't understand," Leia sighed. "They're like a bunch of children fighting in the school yard."

"Well Worshipfulness, a lot of these Rebels _are_ just children," Han pointed out. "Many of them are Luke's age."

A dull stab of pain at the memory of their still missing friend. "Luke would never act like this," she lightly protested. "Though he's still a bit naïve in the ways of the galaxy, and at times seem little more than the young farm boy you guys picked up on Tatooine, there is something in his eyes...I don't think he even realises it. It is as if he is connected to something far greater, and has been from the start..."

"Don't tell me," Han muttered. "_The Force_," he mocked.

Unfazed Leia just shrugged a little. "Perhaps. Maybe it is simply because he is training to be a Jedi. Yet...there is something more...something that is playing on the edge of my senses, just out of reach." She turned confused eyes towards Han, as if requesting help to her thoughts.

"Don't look at me Princess," he scoffed. "I no more believe in that hokey religion than I believe Darth Vader would make a good father figure."

The Dark Lord's name sent an involuntary shiver down Leia's spine, the stark memory of the torture at his hands still enough to wake her up in cold sweats at night. The _Executor_ was Vader's personal Star Destroyer, and if all of Leia's feelings were right, that was where Luke was right now.

She had tried to get the Alliance High Command to realise this, to try to start some sort of rescue mission, but they still believed Luke to be out there somewhere and on his way back. They didn't understand that Luke _would not_ be coming back. At least not in one piece, of that Leia knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Her friend was lost to her, and the Rebel Alliance was doing nothing to rescue their star pilot. Even now, Vader could be submitting Luke to the most heinous of tortures. It did nothing to sooth Leia to know that Luke would no sooner break under their instruments and droids than she did, for what were a few plans and intelligence of the Rebel Alliance compared to the life and safety of her friend?

"I would rather Vader suddenly become a good father to us all than even begin to imagine what sort of catastrophes he might visit upon Luke," she shuddered hiding desolate eyes behind her palms for a moment as she gathered her strength.

"Leia..." Clearing his throat Han cast a glance Chewie's way though he knew his co-pilot and friend would follow him to the ends of the galaxy and beyond. "Leia," he tried again turning her more fully towards him and lifting her chin up to stare into her eyes. "As soon as Chewie and I get the _Falcon_ running again...we could go after Luke, if he still hasn't returned yet."

"He won't return," Leia said dully, before his words hit her. "What? Attempt a rescue from the _Executor_?" Eyes wide she saw a million different possibilities, all of which ended up on the wrong end of a red lightsabre, if they were _lucky_. "It'll be dangerous, far, _far_ more dangerous than your ridiculous escapade on the _Death Star_. They won't fall for the same tricks twice."

"Hey now," Han gave her an easy half-grin as he pulled away slightly to look at her better. "I don't think you know who you're talking to here."

"I know _just_ whom I'm talking to, and that's the problem," Leia muttered.

Chewie growled something, which caused Han to look even cockier. "See, even my old pal here trusts me, and he's been in a whole hell of a lot worse scraps with me even _before_ we met up with you guys."

"That doesn't exactly fill me with confidence," she rolled her eyes.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"With _you_?" She looked away in exaggerated disquiet. "I'd rather not get into it."

"Hey!"

"Look smuggler," she snapped, fully serious again. "I know for a fact Luke is not going to be returning any time soon, coupled with the fact that everyone in the Alliance seems to have suddenly become scatterbrained and keep misplacing everything, blaming others, I fear we are in for some very troubling times. As much as it pains me to say this..." Steeling her nerves, she willed the moister out of her eyes and straightened her back, clenching her fists at her side. "As much as it pains me...we cannot leave the Rebel Alliance at this time."

"Princess..." Han breathed, noticing the very faint cracking of her voice at that.

"Luke...Luke is strong. The Alliance needs as much help as it can get, however, and with the chaos of settling into a new location as well as maintaining the new refugees..." she trailed off as the hopelessness of their situation fell into the pit of her stomach like lead, while at the same time churning like molten lava. "We do not even know if he is in trouble," she forced herself to say, everything in her screaming against it. _She_ knew.

It was her duty as a princess and to the Rebel Alliance however to put the many before the few, or the one. She felt a bit traitorous for thinking that though, and not just because it meant she was forced to abandon her friend. Actually, the thought itself seemed as if it belonged in a different galaxy than hers, maybe even a whole other universe.

Shaking that stray thought aside, she looked out over the crowd before her, wishing for perhaps the first time that she were truly just an ordinary girl who could go out and rescue her friends whenever she wanted, no matter the orders to stay behind. And not for the first time she wondered what it would be like to be Jedi, and felt a moment's irrational jealousy against her friend. Remembering where Luke most likely was however quickly brought her back to her senses.

"Are you sure Leia?" Han queried softly.

"I must be," she whispered eyes staring into the distance that nobody else could see.

Glancing back over at Chewie they exchanged a look causing Han to lightly smirk again. "Well. In a few days the _Falcon_ should be good as new, and perhaps Chewbacca and I will finally leave this joint." When Leia started and turned shocked eyes towards him he just winked. "Who knows where we might end up?"

Realisation crept into her eyes, chasing away some of the shadows within. "Going to finally leave for good this time pirate?" she smiled.

"Who knows?" his smirk grew wider into that cocky grin of his. "With nothing exciting going on here I might just have to split." He thwacked Chewie on the chest when he softly growled something. "I know what you mean Chewie. Hopefully we won't have any stowaways this time either," he added meaningfully before the two of them turned away to go start on repairs to the _Falcon_.

"Oh Han," she breathed watching them walk away. As much as she hated to admit it, the darn smuggler was growing on her, especially after the obviously sincere worry and fondness for their, yes, _their_ missing friend. She prayed to whatever was listening that Luke would be all right in the meantime.

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**Bridge of the **_**Executer**_**...**

The boy was resilient, Vader would give him that. He wouldn't break easily, not that Vader had expected him to of course. He was after all the son of Anakin Skywalker and..._her_.

He cursed himself for his weaknesses.

Luke Skywalker was recalcitrant beyond a doubt, but everyone had a breaking point. Should Vader have to resort to harsher methods, well...he was sure he would get the boy to come to his way of viewing things...eventually.

Clenching his fist Vader spun away from the view of stars to glare at the annoying presence that had the audacity to interrupt him from his musings. "Tell me quickly why I should not simply _destroy_ you?" he growled out.

Beep beep. Whistle. Beep beeeeeep. Beep. Chirp. Whistle. Chirp...beep.

"I do believe you are confusing me with a sentimental fool," Vader snapped out glad that he was the only one present who could, mostly, understand the droid without having to have it plug into a computer terminal. "Trust me though _Artoo-Detoo_," he snarled. "I would not bring up _that_ if I were you."

Artoo rolled back a little and swivelled his dome around as he let out a little shriek.

"It is a wonder you have not been permanently shut down yet, if this is the attitude you continue to show to your superiors," Vader sneered behind his mask.

Artoo whistled something that anyone listening could tell was sarcastic, igniting the Dark Lord's fragile control over his temper until he was just about to sent the small droid careening over the side of the pit when the idiot Ozzel came up to inform him that the Emperor was wishing to speak with him..._immediately_.

Could his Master somehow know that the boy was aboard his ship? Worse, could he know that the boy was really a Skywalker? What if he did? What if he didn't? What if he took Luke from him!

"Lord Vader?" Ozzel hesitantly asked into the silence (well, silence save for the whole breathing regulator thing).

Snapping out of his thoughts Vader gave a stiff nod before sweeping away, ignoring the soft and seemingly concerned beeping behind him as Artoo watched him stalk off to whatever fate awaited him.

"Master," Vader intoned as he knelt before the hologram of the Emperor.

"I have felt a strange disturbance in the Force," the Emperor began without preamble. "Originating from _your_ location Lord Vader."

"We experienced a scuffle with the Rebels as predicted my Master," Vader replied, hoping to stall for enough time to come up with what he should inform the Emperor of. Strange to think that at one time he had once told the man practically everything. How could the existence of one boy change everything?

"Excellent. They took the bait then?" the old man grinned, his rotted teeth making Vader experience the sudden urge to brush his own.

"As you have foreseen," Vader answered conveying a sense of smugness into his words. "And during the dogfight that ensured I sensed the presence of the one who destroyed the Death Star, Master."

Palpatine grew silent for a moment, causing Vader to become suddenly grateful for the fact that his joints were mechanical and thus not prone to twitching...well, unless he was experiencing a glitch or some other technical difficulty but that really had only happened twice, and that was only in the beginning.

"And what became of the star killer?" the Emperor asked in such a tone of voice that Vader realised he had to tread very carefully and not to underestimate the man who had more knowledge of the Force, especially the Dark Side, than perhaps anyone else still living.

"He was captured my Master," Vader said secretly praying what he was about to do was the right course of action. It would not do for everything to fall apart now. "He is currently being questioned about all he knows of the Rebels' plans, but so far he appears to know little of anything. It seems they Rebels are only using him for his superior fighting ability."

"Does his style not remind you of anyone else my Apprentice?" the Emperor questioned knowingly.

"I...try not to think about anything but my duty to the Empire, and do not allow any foolish thoughts to cloud my judgement." His words reminded him that he was doing just that. The boy was giving him dangerous ideas, and not all of them were ideas of a Dark Lord. He would have to fix this, and become even harsher with the boy. Perhaps then they would both be strong enough to...

"And do you yet know his name?" Palpatine queried, shaking Vader from his thoughts.

"He has only given me a list of pseudonyms, none of which check out. He appears to be able to withstand the normal forms of persuasion better than most Rebels. I was planning to push harder, despite the ramifications."

Palpatine was quiet for a moment again before waving an indifferent hand. "Hold off for a moment Lord Vader," he replied nonchalantly. "As long as he is captive there really is no worry. The Rebels have the bait, so one troublesome pilot is of no consequence. Continue as you have and report back to me with any improvements or information for either situation."

"Of course Master. As you wish."

After the hologram of the Emperor had faded out Vader let out a sigh (or as best as he could with partly mechanical lungs) and wearily got to his feet. Somehow, he had managed to get around Skywalker's name and just how important he was to the Rebel Alliance. His Master wasn't fooled though, that was for certain. He just had too much faith in his little scheme with the supposed refugees.

If Skywalker's true identity was learned, however, his attention would shift and Vader would have to be ready for another scheme of his own. The boy would have to be trained.

Sweeping out of the room, Vader summoned the Dark Side around him, searching for any unsuspecting victim to vent his frustration on.

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**AN:** (waves white flag from hiding place behind Artoo) Parley?

Gomen nasai! It's not as long as I would like, but honestly, at least it's something right? Different things had kept me from the computer, and even when I had the computer I had things keeping me from updating. I kind of lost my muse for a while but I'm hoping this will jumpstart it.

I would also like to thank everyone again for all the wonderful reviews you have sent me. They really made me feel guilty about not updating sooner. T.T

Appreciate it lots guys! (thumbs up)


	7. Pain and Nothing More

**VII**

Luke was running.

The darkness behind him snapped at his heels, tendrils of it whipping about in the air as they tried to grab him. He yanked himself free from one only to be ensnared by another, thicker cord of the writhing black mass behind him. Through it all, he heard the harsh, heavy breathing of an unmistakeable source from amidst the shadows behind him as he struggled in vain to reach..._something_.

He knew not what he was seeking, or running to, but knew without a doubt he had to get there. Or perhaps, he thought as the scenery flashed by him – first desert, then hilly green with a beautiful lake, then a muggy swamp, and finally a volcanic landscape with a molten river – it was not so much a _place_ as a _person_.

Familiar crystal blue eyes, so like his own, flashed before him and he redoubled his efforts to break free of the shadow as a form coalesced before him in the shape of a man he had seen quite frequently in his dreams.

"Father," he choked out, one hand outstretched towards the wavering figure. "Please...help me..."

A sudden low chuckle drifted on the still air towards him from the darkness behind, causing sharp icy fear to stab at his gut and run like shards through his veins as out stepped Darth Vader, his hissing light sword held firmly in his mechanical fist.

"Luke!" Anakin yelled, his blue sword igniting, lighting up his features.

"I have you now," Vader intoned, suddenly before Anakin and bringing his sword around.

Luke watched anxiously, unable to move or speak as he watched as if in slow motion the arc of the red sabre. Anakin, instead of meeting his opponent's weapon in a parry, simply stood there as if in meditation, his blue sabre extinguished.

"_Noooo_!" Luke finally managed to get out as he watched the blood red lightsabre cleave his father in two, leaving only scorched robes behind. Enraged he drew the blue lightsabre that was now at his side and viciously attacked the monster standing before him, all his angst and sorrow and _hatred_ for the murderous fiend flowing through him until at the last moment he struck his enemy down, beheading him.

Instantaneously pain surged through him like lighting, boiling his blood with the agonising electricity, as he felt another ache around his right wrist causing him to drop his father's lightsabre. Dropping to his knees clutching his throbbing wrist he stared in dismay as the helmet of the dark lord began smoking before the faceplate exploded, exposing the face beneath to his scrutiny.

Blue eyes stared back.

"No!" Luke exclaimed jerking up in bed, barely away of the crashing of furniture as it flew across the room away from where he lay. Panting and sweating he gazed around the darkened room to gather his bearings, the final fingers of terror slowly releasing him, though he still felt close to vomiting as the last image of his nightmare played through his head. Somehow, the face beneath had been not only his own, but his father's as well.

The sickly, greasy feeling he had felt in his rage still hadn't faded completely yet, though as he calmed his breathing and focused inside himself and around himself, as Ben had taught him to, it slowly slipped away to leave him feeling drained and shaky. Pressing a trembling hand to his pale face, he slowly exhaled his breath before tentatively climbing out of the bed sticky with his sweat.

Taking a quick, cool shower Luke, though it was still extremely early and he was still exhausted by Vader's chore and training from yesterday, set about getting ready for the day, stripping the sodden sheets from the bed and throwing them down the laundry chute. He did not know where any extras were so he merely left the bed bare and exited to his small common area as he tried to dispel the last of the images from his nightmare from his mind.

He wished he had Artoo there with him, but the Dark Bastard had taken the little astromech droid with him, seeing as how Piett was still recovering from his nervous breakdown. Somehow Luke didn't think he'd be as lucky as to have the same happen to Vader.

It was a couple hours later when Vader stormed into his sitting room, stopping short when he saw Luke already up. The next instant however he was towering over him and harshly ordering him to stand up, which he of course had to comply to.

"Today we will begin some training with your lightsabre. Follow me."

Grumbling under his breath Luke followed after the dark clad man, again thinking less than pleasant thoughts about him. Lightsabre work was probably the last thing he wanted to do after his nightmare, but he knew better than to argue when the monster was in one of his moods. He had seemed to become even harsher and exacting after Luke's chore punishment, and Luke had learned last night not to talk back if he wanted to keep all his teeth in his head.

Of course there was still the strange thought that Luke had been completely all right being rebellious (hah, he was just so funny) towards the man beforehand, where he was acting downright childish he admitted. He didn't know what it was about the man that made him want to act that way, but it seemed completely natural to do so.

He wondered if there was a therapist on board, because he was pretty sure he could use one.

"How much did Kenobi teach you in sparring?" Vader asked once they got to the training room. "Tell me."

Wishing he could tell the man to go screw himself instead Luke glared down at the ground as he told the truth. "Not much. We were practicing using the helmet and shooty thing when he felt Alderaan destroyed," he growled. "Then you killed him, and here I am. I'm so giddy."

"How your relatives never killed you before now I'll never know," Vader intoned sounding darkly exasperated.

"Well they're dead now, so they can't do it anymore," Luke said with a shrug, though he lifted his eyes to glare at Vader now. "You know, just like Ben. And my father. And my moth—"

"Get up!" Vader snarled at the now kneeling figure. It wasn't by choice.

Wincing Luke brought his hand up to his stinging jaw, slowly rising as Vader bade. He could have sworn he had vowed not to get smacked that day. Apparently the Force _wasn't_ with him that day. Then again, it appeared it hadn't been with him since his birthday. Hell, since Leia had sent him on this stupid mission. Not that he blamed her at all, not even slightly. He just wished it hadn't been a stupid trap.

But _stang_ the monster was in a snit today. He didn't even get to finish mentioning his mother. He wondered idly if the monster had a mother. Probably not. He was probably just sired by pure evil and machines. Oh well.

"Unless I say otherwise you are not allowed to say anything else besides 'Yes Master' to me, do I make myself clear?" Vader hissed through what sounded like clenched teeth.

"Yes Master," Luke growled back.

"Good, now let's begin." Luke was unexpectedly tossed his lightsabre, but before any naughty thoughts could take root in his mind, Vader was already speaking again. "You will not use that lightsabre except for when I allow it, with my expression permission," he sternly ordered, pointing that damned finger of his again.

"Yes Master," he drawled with a roll of his eyes. Did the monster think of everything? Of course, being second-in-command of the entire Empire probably required a quick mind. Stang.

Suddenly Vader was attacking with his crimson blade, and Luke barely managed to twist out of the way in time and parry with his own blue sabre. Gritting his teeth with the effort of keeping Vader's lightsabre at bay Luke realised that Vader hadn't said he couldn't use his all in the duel, nor did he say anything against Luke taking it one step farther beyond winning. If he got the upper hand, he could quite possibly end all his suffering at the monster's hands, as well as get revenge.

Blue eyes lighting up in determination and resolve Luke let out a yell as he pushed violently against the rival sabre and knocked Vader a few steps back. He could do it. Vader was more machine than man, there was no way he had some of the agility Luke had. Funnelling all his exhaustion through the Force Luke advanced, swinging his father's sabre at his father's murderer.

Vader effortlessly blocked it, knocking Luke's foot eschew so that he stumbled, barely missing the red hissing blade to his midsection. Panting Luke brought his sabre back up, clashing with the red as he glared into the black mask of his tormentor. He wished he could call the man all sorts of terrible things, but instead found he could only reply sarcastically and with a sneer, "Yes Master."

Growling Vader channelled the Dark Side to give him more power and shoved the boy well across the room, leaving Luke feeling slightly disoriented. Running at the monster he launched himself into another attack, only to be deftly avoided as Vader simply twisted to the side and brought his sabre towards Luke's back, who guarded against by holding his sabre over his head and behind him.

"You have potential young one," Vader intoned as they began circling each other. "Feed off your hate and anger and it will make you powerful."

_I just need to be powerful enough to kill __**you**__!_ Luke thought swinging his sabre down. Vader parried though and brought up another assault, causing Luke to once more go on the defensive. Sweat began pouring down his face and drenching his clothes as he fell back a few steps, his muscles beginning to quiver as his lack of sleep after gruelling exercise began taking its toll. _I can't lose! Ben, help me!_

As if by a miracle one of Luke's wildly flailing attacks met its mark, however slightly, and his blue lightsabre slashed against Vader's arm, causing him to growl in pain. However, to Luke's dismay, it caused the originally lazily fighting Sith to come back with a vengeance, angrily slashing through the air until he made contact.

In slow motion Luke watched the ruby red lightsabre of his enemy slide through the air until it came into contact with his right wrist sending stinging, flaring, _burning_ pain through his arm, his own sabre flying through the air as his right hand was completely severed.

Yelling in pain Luke fell to his knees cradling his wrist to his chest, a deadly déjà vu flashing through his mind as he stared in horror at the monster that now stood before him, red lightsabre held imperiously before him as he stared down at his fallen opponent. His ominous breathing filled Luke's ears until he thought he would be smothered with it, until suddenly he deactivated his lightsabre and clipped it to his belt.

"You have much to learn young Skywalker," Vader announced. "Until you learn to use your hatred and anger you will remain weak and pitiful, powerless to stop the death of all that you hold dear."

_I'll never turn dark!_ he wanted to spat back at the man, but could only glare instead, clutching his throbbing wrist protectively.

"Come. We need to get you _patched up_," Vader sneered forcing Luke to his feet and propelling him out of the door, his lightsabre flying into Vader's outstretched hand to be clipped next to his own red one.

"Yes _Master_," Luke bit out through clenched teeth, forcing all his hateful thoughts into one word. He again resolved to turn everything the monster made him call him an insult in his own mind, be it 'Master' or 'Lord', but no matter what to Luke he would only ever be calling the dark clad machine the worst, foulest names anyone could ever think of. To Luke, there was no greater insult than what those two words would mean to him.

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Luke stared down at his new hand, marvelling in how real it looked. Clenching and unclenching his fist he could almost swear he could feel his muscles stretching and pulling beneath the fake flesh. The nerve receptors were amazing, making his prosthetic hand feel and act almost like his flesh and blood one, even to the point where he could feel the pain when the medical droid poked his fingertips with a needle.

Now, staring at his mechanical hand as he sat on the medical table, Luke couldn't help but feel sickened by it. He had allowed his anger and hatred of the monster to control him for a time, and now he was part machine himself. He would not allow himself to become another Vader. He had to push away all the negative feelings of the Dark Side and embrace only the Light. He _could not_ fail.

Too much depended on him staying strong. Who knew what would happen to the Rebellion, to his friends, if Vader broke him? He would rather die than help the Empire. He only prayed he would be able to take Vader down with him.

Closing his eyes he took a few calming breaths while he could, thankful Vader had left him alone after escorting him to the medical bay and simply telling him to stay put until he returned, and focused on his inner calm. He tried to feel for the Force as best as he could, wishing he had had more time with Ben to train, but knowing he couldn't waste all his time on wishes that could never come true.

_Leia_, he whispered in his mind. _Please be safe. Keep strong, Leia. May the Force be with you._ With all his being, he prayed that she and the others would remain safe from harm, that the Light would not leave them in their time of need. He knew they could not come for him, and only hoped they had the strength to keep going, to keep fighting the darkness. "Leia…"

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**Temporary Rebel Base…**

_Leia…_

Jerking awake in her sleep Leia spun her head around, looking for the source of the whispers. It had sounded so familiar…

_Leia._

"Luke?" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. It was Luke; she knew it was. Somehow, she could hear his voice. "Luke!" It was no use though; it was already fading and before she knew it the night was utterly silent. Covering her face with her hands she struggled to keep her tears back, to remain strong for her friend, but as each new day approached she felt hopelessness invading her thoughts.

Flexing her wrist, which had previously woken her up earlier that night with pain before she fell once more into a fitful slumber, Leia stood up from her bunk and swiftly changed before heading out looking for Han. He had informed her that luck was on his side and he might be able to get the _Falcon_ functional sooner rather than later, which had been the best news she'd received ever since Luke went missing.

Though, honestly, she knew where he was. She might not know how or why, but she _did_ know beyond a doubt he was with that monster, the Emperor's lapdog. The intelligence reports hadn't gotten a very clear location of Vader's ship, apparently he was just flying around with no clear destination. No-one could pinpoint exactly where he was though, as they kept getting contradicting reports. She was starting to become very suspicious, and had a distinctly bad feeling about it.

"Princess Leia," Threepio greeted when he saw her. "How can I be of service?"

"Where's Han?"

"Last I saw he was working on his ship," the droid stated sounding as if his feathers had been ruffled. She hid a smile as she figured Han had probably insulted the protocol droid again, offending him. He really did get picked on a lot.

"Thanks Threepio," she murmured hurrying down the corridors to where the ships were docked. Spotting her roguish friend muttering and cursing to himself as he worked on some lose wires she could help but affectionately snort. Before Luke had disappeared he had talked nonstop about taking his reward and booking it, but ever since then all he and Chewie could talk about was finding their friend and rescuing him…again, Han liked to point out.

"Any luck?" she asked trying to smother her un-princesslike snort of amusement.

"Oh ha-ha," Han grumbled sarcastically. "This piece of junk is even moodier than you are Your Highnessness."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she huffed as she watched him get shocked again by the exposed wires. "I thought you said you expected to get this thing running sooner rather than later?"

"Well, it's touch-and-go at the moment if you must know," he stated sounding a little offended. "And I'm not sure I much appreciate your tone."

"We have a mission Han," she said turning serious. "Make sure we're able to do it."

"No more than two days at max Princess," he said sounding a little less flippant and derisive than usual.

"You said one this morning!" she exclaimed.

"Better than the three it was originally going to take! Unless you'd like me to cut a few corners…"

"_No_!" Leia all but yelled. "It looks like you've cut all the corner all _already_," she grumbled. "Cut any more and I'm not sure this thing will even be able to fly."

"Hey, she can surprise you," Han said crookedly smiling and patting the side of his treasured ship. A metal panel fell off.

"Uh-huh," Leia stated crossing her arms and doing her best not to roll her eyes.

"Heh. Whoops."

Chewie, deciding it best not to get in the middle of the conversation/argument, however held no qualms against rolling his eyes and muttered something less than complimentary about his pilot and friend. _Humans_, he couldn't help thinking.

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**Hallway of the Star Destroyer **_**Executer**_**…**

His agonised cry was still rebounding through his mind as Vader paced the small hallway leading to the medical bay. The boy had not expected to be injured, and Vader himself had not meant to cause any lasting damage to the young man. He had merely acted as he had been trained to and lashed out in his anger when the artificial nerve and pain receptors went off when he had been hit in the arm.

He couldn't allow himself to regret it, however, as the boy had to learn sooner or later. If he was going to be strong enough to overthrow the Emperor Skywalker had to train harder than ever and leave such weakness as his heart behind. The Empire had no place for the softhearted, except in mass, unmarked graves. He had wanted Skywalker to use his anger in their duel and the young man had, for a short while. It was only the beginning.

Skywalker was still so untrained in the ways of the Force. He was a liability until he learned to control it and harness his rage into a weapon, destroying his enemies before they ever had a chance to rise. Only then could he be safe from outside evils, protected in his status as Dark Prince.

It was a delicious thought, to be Emperor. With Palpatine gone, Vader would finally rule the galaxy as he saw fit, bringing true peace to all the star systems with his son at his right hand. Together they would be unstoppable. Together they would be _invincible_. There would be none strong enough to oppose them, should any ever be foolish enough to attempt such a thing. They would rule completely.

So why was the boy's cry still echoing inside his head?

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"It is time to train you in the art of meditation," Vader announced as he suddenly strode through the doors, startling Luke so much that he nearly fell off his seat. "Until you can fully grasp the power of the Force you are useless to me."

"Good! Maybe I don't want to learn how to use the Force then!" Luke snapped.

"You will. You have no choice in the matter. Besides young one," Vader added knowingly. "You wish to become a great Jedi Knight. You will learn the ways of the Force, and then, you shall come to know the true power of the Dark Side. It is your destiny."

"My destiny is to kill you _my Lord_," Luke sneered back as best as he could, his blue eyes snapping fire at the dark clad monster before him.

"We shall see," Vader said sounding almost as if he might smirk. "Come, you may meditate in your rooms."

"They're _not_ my rooms. My rooms are with the Rebel Alliance, not with a monster like _you_," Luke glared as he obediently hopped off the table and followed the Sith Lord. He glared the entire way, and even made rude hand gestures beyond the monster's back, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Though he had not technically been ordered to keep quiet he knew it would be less painful on his end if he went ahead and kept his silence in the corridors.

Once in the rooms Vader had assigned him he let his vitriol run free, however, and cursed at the man in both Basic and Huttese.

"Though those are some rather creative insults, and I had no idea a ship could fit there, I think you will find it advisable to leave those ideas for another day as we have business to attend to today. It is time to meditate," Vader commented after a few minutes when it seemed Luke was not tiring of his insults anytime soon. "Now sit."

Glaring Luke sat where he was bade, though he quickly school his pugnacious look when he glanced down at his right hand. Up until now Vader had never really caused him any lasting damage, but Luke had finally witnessed what a Dark Lord of the Sith might do when truly angered. He wouldn't turn, that was for sure, but his survival meant that he had to tread very carefully from here on out. His only fear was that he wouldn't be able to do that.

"I want you to clear your mind of everything but the Force," Vader commanded. "Close your eyes and let your body relax. Breath in deeply, hold, and let it slowly out."

For being such a giant chuff-sucking gravel maggot and Hutt-spawn, Vader's deep, mechanic voice was actually quite mesmerising, Luke found out. When he used it the way he was using it now Luke oddly enough found a sort of morbid comfort in it, and easily found himself drifting in the nothingness of meditation. Following Vader's commands Luke soon felt a pleasant tingle as he stretched his awareness out, focusing on the Force within himself before slowly encompassing the rest of the room.

He frowned a little as he took in Vader's presence, the darkness the monster wore as a cloak making him feel a little nauseous, and made his skin feel like it was crawling. There was something there, however, beneath the darkness that drew him forward, a sense of familiarity and a curiosity to learn more about it. The darkness shifted a little and something flashed beneath it, but before he could focus more of his attention on it, Vader was ordering him to expand a little beyond the room, to the guards stationed outside.

Luke grimaced as a sharp pain started jabbing him behind his eyes, the feelings of a migraine becoming evident the further Vader pushed him to focus on the Force. He wasn't ready, he knew that, there was no way he could concentrate as hard as he was and as far as he was in his present untrained condition. The chairs and tables around him began rattling as the pain became all encompassing, his vision in the Force blackening as he felt himself slowly losing consciousness, and still Vader pushed him on.

"You are stronger than this Skywalker," Vader snapped as he noticed the icy sweat beginning to pour down Luke's face and soaking his top. "Pull upon your anger and hated of your imprisonment to make yourself stronger, to push the pain back and focus only on the Force."

"I…can't…" Luke grunted as he felt whatever made him listen to Vader in the first place trying to latch onto feelings that were at the moment no longer there. All he felt was the pain and the black void of unconsciousness.

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Luke groaned as he came back into himself, raising one weak and weary hand to his pounding head. The harsh lights assaulted his eyes when he tried to open them, causing him to cringe and quickly shut them again.

"Get up," Vader snarled, nudging him in the side none too gently, causing Luke to realise that he was still sprawled on the floor. Grimacing he tried to do as he was told, though it took several tried for his spent body to actually do what he wanted. He hurt all over, and Vader's insistent prodding was doing little to help matters.

A wave of dizziness swam through him, making him very nearly lose the contents of his stomach. Moaning he barely managed to open his eyes when Vader commanded him to look at him. He was just a black blurry shape amongst the other blurry shapes.

"Pathetic," Vader sneered. "Didn't Kenobi teach you _anything_?"

Luke wanted to make a snappy comeback, but fear he really _would_ lose his stomach if he even opened his mouth just a little. He didn't even have the glare at the monster. He wondered if he looked as horrible as he felt, and if he looked a little green. Probably.

"That's it," Vader darkly intoned. "Besides vigorous exercise and training of the body, the mind must be taught as well. You probably couldn't even lift your beloved X-Wing," he spat making a scoffing noise. "From now on you will wake up two hours earlier to practice your meditation before your physical training, followed by lessons with your lightsabre, completed by further meditation before bed. Until you can show me some of that famous Skywalker potential, every waking moment will be spent either training or cleaning this Star Destroyer from top to bottom. _Do I make myself clear_?"

"Yes Master," Luke managed to get out, though he had to swallow some bile immediately after. Having to call the man who murdered his father '_Master_' wasn't helping matters either.

"Good. Now I want you up and ready to clean the training room by the time I return, and if you're not there will be _dire_ consequences. We'll just see how well you listen to orders then, shall we?" Vader asked with such a dark voice that Luke felt all blood drain from his face and his knees go weak, horrors unimaginable flashing through his mind. Leia's face in abject pain the most prominent.

"Yes Master," he whispered.

"Tonight is going to be a _long_ night Skywalker. I hope your little nap was worth it," Vader sneered again before spinning around and swooping out of the room, his black as night cape snapping in the air behind him.

Collapsing to his knees, Luke didn't bother trying to stop the tears. He didn't have the energy to anymore. But each one strengthened his resolve. _He would never turn._

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**A/N:** Sorry it's still so short. Major blockage happening in my mind lately. I know I use that excuse a lot, but it's true. At least I got another chapter out, yeah? Again though, I apologise for it taking so long to do so. And stang, this chapter is all darkness and angst, isn't it? Maybe it's time for Piett to make a reappearance soon. We need some comedy to alleviate this mess.

Oh, and I'm not sure exactly when, because my brain thinks one thing and my fingers type another, but Luke _should_ be learning the truth behind his parentage in a few chapters. I never really planned on this being an ultra long fic, but the way things are going who knows? Anyways, I hoped you guys enjoyed this latest chapters as you have the others. (crosses fingers)

Until next time! Be well, and may the Force be with you!


	8. Something More?

**VIII**

Piett calmly strolled down the halls, relishing in the stress of working for the infamous Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader with his impossible standards and slow and painful deaths for any tiniest infractions. He even whistled a jaunty little tune as he skipped over the fallen body of one of his fellow officers being drag away by a couple of Stormtroopers, evident of his Lord's foul temper and recent presence at the scene. Ah, life was good.

After all, it had been quite some time since he had been haunted by that devil in droid's plating. His nightmares had mostly gone away now too. He only woke up _three_ times a night crying for his mummy now.

Bless that woman. She was a saint.

"Why _hello_ there little captured boy," he greeted jovially as he came upon the Skywalker child scrubbing the filth off the corridor floor. Hm. Looked to be a little old blood there too. How fascinating. "Doing well today? Had plenty of rest? Eat your vegetables?"

Skywalker gave him a look as if saying he had clearly lost it, but he ignored it. Nothing could reach him on his peaceful cloud. "Uh…are _you_ all right Captain? You seem a little…uh…_elevated_."

"I'm perfectly elevated my dear boy," he smiled. "Elevated, elated, ecstatic, excited, euphoric…my, but those are some wonderful words aren't they? Simply…excellent!"

Piett began his whistling again as he continued on his way, practically dancing down the hallway in his exuberance. Yes, so many great words.

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Luke dragged the back of his sleeve across his sweaty brow, feeling bone weary after cleaning room after room and hallway after hallway all night. His muscles, which had previously been screaming in protest, he could no longer feel, and the sting of the cleaning materials were likewise no longer felt. Honestly, he hardly felt alive. For the first time he fully understood the term _dead tired_.

Picking up his supplies and getting ready to move to the next spot, he nearly jumped out of his skin when familiar black boots entered his line of vision. Looking up at the looming individual, Luke felt too tired to even think of snipping out a snarky comment. Instead, he just sighed and went back to what he was doing.

"Excellent," Vader intoned, and had Luke the energy he would have sniggered at the use of a word Piett had been so…fond of. "You are progressing young Skywalker. I am breaking you."

Feeling the need to be defiant, Luke sucked up all the energy he could muster and dully said, "Uncle Owen assigned harsher tasks than you do, Master. You know, until you had him killed. He also never cut people's hands off because he threw a temper tantrum."

In his peripheral vision he could see Vader slowly clench his fist, and he wondered if he would get clouted again, but all Vader did was even more slowly release it. Uncaring at the moment, Luke staggered to his feet, looking around to make sure he had picked everything up. "Is there another room you wish me to do Master?"

"No. You are finished acting the cleaning droid for now. I want you to instead return to your rooms and await my orders. I will be in there shortly." With that, the Sith Lord spun around, cape seeming to lack its usual dramatic snap.

With a shrug, Luke obeyed, not like he had any other option of course. Taking the supplies with him, since he hadn't been told to leave them anywhere, Luke wandered back to his rooms and dropped them by the couch, which he collapsed upon the very next moment. He knew he would get in trouble if he allowed himself to fall asleep, but she wasn't sure he would be able to stop it. He was sure he could fall asleep standing up at the moment.

Still, it couldn't hurt to rest his eyes for just a moment.

"Wake up!"

Yelping Luke fell onto the floor, jerked awake both by the sudden yell and the jolt of the Force that pushed him off the couch. He didn't even remember falling asleep, but he must have as one Sith Monster was currently standing before him looking none too pleased. Well, more so than usual.

"Ouch," Luke mumbled rubbing his head, though his whole body ached. He could feel his muscles again, and they weren't too pleased either. Staring up at the intimidating figure, standing in the oh so familiar position of fists on hips, Luke wondered how much of an impromptu nap he had received before being unceremoniously woken up. It felt like only five minutes, but a quick glance at the wall chrono revealed that a little more than an hour had actually gone by.

"Did I say you could sleep Skywalker?" the monster ground out sounding dangerous.

"No Master. But the mere fact that I could fall asleep is evident that you did not strictly forbid it," he stated slowly shifting to a more of a kneel, hoping such a subservient pose might incite a little more geniality from the dark beast.

Vader was silent for a moment, raising one finger as if about to deliver yet another lecture, only to lower it again with a small roll of his shoulders. "Very well young one. You may have that one," he replied, causing a small smile to light up Luke's face. "However I will not forget next time. Now up."

"Yes Master," Luke sighed painfully pushing himself back to his feet. "You know I couldn't argue with you if you just took away my ability to speak freely again," he couldn't help pointing out. "You gave it back to me and now look what happened."

"Are you sure you wish to remind me of this?"

Luke grimaced, seeming to think before shaking his head. "I like being able to talk back to you. What with you having killed my father and everything, I never had one to talk back to. There was Uncle Owen, but he's gone now too. Ben was never really one you felt like talking back to you, you know? So I guess that just leaves you."

Vader tensed for a moment as he started talking, but near the end he just seemed exasperated again, the prominent anger drained out of him. "You are much like a broken HoloNet recording, just constantly repeating yourself," he muttered. "Besides, I found it quite easy to backtalk Obi-Wan."

"Yeah, but you're all evil and everything," Luke shrugged. "Not sure if I could do the same thing to someone I respected. Er, I guess since you killed him you didn't really respect him though. Huh. All right then."

Vader's breathing made an unusual (though not really that unusual the past couple days) sound that Luke knew was his version of a sigh. "Your aunt and uncle must have had the patience of saints."

"I get the feeling patience isn't really one of your virtues," Luke commented.

"I get the feeling you're a little bit bipolar," Vader commented right back.

"Probably. I just really like to annoy you."

"That, young Skywalker, is the understatement of the century."

Luke just grinned. Vader did another one of his little sighing noises, before beckoning Luke to follow him. Now that the imminent need to irritate the Dark Lord was placed on hold, Luke felt the crushing weight of his exhaustion again, his very bones aching with the fatigue. He was sure he would get a good night's sleep that night, if he was ever allowed to sleep that is. At this rate, he starting to think he might begin to suffer from imposed insomnia.

He wondered how long he could go before suffering from hallucinations. As a kid he had once heard of a tale of a bogeyman who haunted your dreams, nightmares rather, and the longer you stayed awake the worst it would be when you finally slept, but he didn't think anything could compare to the bogeyman before him now. Claws were nothing to a lightsabre.

"In here," Vader ordered motioning into an empty conference room. The viewing pane showed the familiar streak of hyperspace, a sight that still caused Luke's heart to swell. He didn't think he would ever get used to space, or the joy of flying. He wondered if his father had ever felt the same way. As a Jedi he must have visited tonnes of worlds. He wondered which one had been his father's favourite.

Realising his thoughts were rambling Luke shook his head, overcome with dizziness at the motion that made him grip a chair back with a grimace. His blood pounded in his ears, the weakness reminding him that as well as missing sleep he had missed a few meals as well. With further lack of proper nutrition (or nutrition in general, really) he feared he would never grow any taller.

"Sit," Vader ordered striding around to the head of the elliptical table and standing behind the chair there.

"Gladly," Luke mumbled plopping down in the seat at the far end. "Think I could get some crackers or something to munch on? Perhaps a piece of dehydrated bantha jerky?"

"Perhaps a bar of soap to teach you to keep quiet?" Vader inquired before jerking back slightly.

"Thinking about how much you sound like your mother right now? Did you often talk back to her? Perhaps use naughty words? Did you even _have_ a mother?"

"I'm trying to remind myself that you're a much better asset alive than dead. It is a difficult thing to do."

"So I've been told. You could always smack me a few more times. I'm sure the consequent brain damage will be helpful too. Your Emperor will be pleased by it."

"He is _your_ Emperor as well, and soon to be your Master," Vader pointed out, the edge creeping back into his voice. Talk about somebody being bipolar.

"Doubt it, but it's nice to see you're committed. Do you get Dark-Sith-Lord-of-the-Month frequently? I'm sure that's fun. Do they throw a little party for you? You're mother would be proud, I'm sure."

"Silence!" Vader ordered, voice booming around the room as he slammed his fist on the tabletop, startling Luke enough that he jumped. "You will desist the stupidity of this banter immediately. You think you are strong, Skywalker, but the Dark Side is stronger. You _will_ be broken. Even if I have to break your body several times over to accomplish it!" he growled, his swirling anger palpable enough to stir Luke's ruffled hair and clothes.

Luke could not stop the flinch, nor the nervous gulp as the Dark Lord glared down at him. He was oddly grateful he could not speak, for he was sure his voice would have come out as a squeak, which would undermine his bravery in the face of this foe. He wondered again how Leia could have possibly withstood the assault from this monster when she had been his prisoner, as he doubted the jerk had shown her any of the strange warped leniencies he showed Luke.

However, it seemed that with each passing hour that leniency was diminishing, and Luke grew anxious at the implications. Soon he knew the Dark Lord would snap, and Luke wouldn't have to worry anymore about refusing the Dark Side.

That did not mean he would make it any easier on the Dark Monster, he knew, though.

"Now, tell me your history young Skywalker. Tell me everything about yourself," Vader darkly intoned.

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"And then Aunt Beru said, 'Luke, get that womp rat off my table!' To which Uncle Owen replied…hey, are you even listening?"

Huffing Luke crossed his arms, glaring at the Dark Jerk who was now sitting in the head chair, the rhythmic breathing sounding almost like snores to him. If Vader had fallen asleep…

"As much as I wish I could sleep instead of listening to this drivel, I cannot. Alas," the Dark Lord said sounding absolutely weary. "And the Rebels say I deliver cruel and unusual torture."

"Aren't you interested in my childhood stories though? You said you wanted to know everything about me," Luke pointed out.

"A miscalculation on my part," Vader sighed. "What year are we up to now?"

"This happened when I was seven."

"Ah. Of course. Couldn't you have picked up a more productive hobby, like swoop racing? At least that is more lucrative."

"Han might be interested in the outcomes of races for financial gain, but I just like competing. Like feeling the rush of air. I have been in a few races, but never a swoop. I heard they used to have podracing on Tatooine, but it's been outlawed now. Way more dangerous than swoop racing. They go like 300km/h faster than a swoop does."

"I know," Vader replied sounding stiff, like he usually did when certain topics came up. Who knew podracing was one of them?

"I think it'd be fun to be a podracer, but I also heard that human's don't have the reflexes for it."

"They usually don't," Vader mumbled before swiftly changing the subject, intriguing Luke. "We should be dropping out of hyperspace in a few hours. A rebellious uprising needs to be squashed before it becomes something more serious, during that time clothes that fit your small frame will be sent up. I'd ask your opinion on them, but I really don't care."

"Aww, we could have gone shopping together and picked out matching capes. What do you think of hot pink?"

"I shall take that as a failed attempt to be humorous and leave it at that. I want you to return to your quarters and meditate. You will stay in your quarters unless Captain Piett or I come for you, do you understand? Do _not_ leave it under any other circumstances," the Sith warned pointing at him.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to leave it under those circumstances anyways," Luke frowned.

"Well then we shall have no problems," Vader retorted standing up. "Now go."

"Yes my Lord and Master," Luke snorted wearily pushing himself to stand and trudging back to his room, the Dark Lord's ominous presence ushering him along. With a sigh he wandered back into his sitting area and settled in the cushy chair, deciding he might as well be comfortable if he had to meditate for who-knew-how-long. Actually, Vader hadn't specified a given amount of time, so perhaps he wouldn't have to do it long anyways, and then he could take another nap.

With a grin in place, Luke tucked his feet under him and stretched out into the Force, focusing merely on his own presence for now until he got accumulated to the sensation. Stretching out a little he again briefly touched the guards standing in the hall outside and wondered if he might be able to perform that mind trick Ben had used before. Of course, it's not like he could leave the rooms though.

_Luke…_

Jerking a little, Luke almost fell out of his beginning meditational state when he heard that voice, a voice he could have sworn he knew. But that was impossible!

…wasn't it?

"Ben?" he whispered before delving deeper into the Force. _Ben, is that you?_

_Luke, you must beware…do not allow Vader to tempt you to the Dark Side._

_I won't! I'll never turn! Not for the monster who killed my father!_

_You must not allow the truth or his lies to blind you Luke…the Force is with you, always…_

_Ben, wait!_

A sudden shifting of the Force drew Luke's attention to Vader's location, and again the writhing dark mass surrounding him made him nearly ill to contemplate, yet he could not turn his focus away. The darkness fluttered when he turned that way, causing confusion for Luke who could have sworn just yesterday it was more firmly attached to the dark man. He again caught a brief flash, a spark of something underneath, but it was just as quickly covered in the blanketing darkness, making him wonder if he had really seen it or just imagined it.

As much as the darkness made him queasy, there was something else there that undeniably drew him in, his natural curiosity heightened to uncover what the Dark Lord might be hiding in the cloak of darkness. He could almost visualise it, and thought for an instant he might have seen a tatter in it, but the shifting, nearly fluid energy flicked out and covered the area. If it existed it was hidden now in the Dark Side shroud.

Luke finally drew away, the reminder of Vader's orders to meditate playing through his mind causing him to sigh, though he did allow himself to delve a little deeper into the Force and drift, hoping the answers to his problems might be found there. It was easier to meditate without Vader's cloying presence right nearby, choking off what he knew to be the Light Side of the Force, and his insistent demands that he stretch himself out before entering into the deeper meditative trance.

Working at his own pace and abilities he found meditation to actually be quiet enjoyable and relaxing, soothing his battered nerves and feeling like a drink of water to his parched soul. The sleepless nights were washed away, the Force energising him more than any of his brief naps had. The only problem came from the still too near darkened presence of the Sith Lord, but even that did not dampen him for long.

After a while of feeling the Force move around and through him he again stretched out his awareness, hoping to feel Ben again, but instead felt nothing. However a distant sense of purpose hit him, the originating presence instantly familiar though she was probably light years away. The sense of her was similar to Vader's, causing him to come to a rather startling realisation…Leia was Force-sensitive. She felt much like Vader did, felt almost close enough to Luke that if he whispered her name she might hear it, no matter where she was.

Was it simply the Force-sensitivity that made her feel so similar to Vader? No one else on the ship felt that way, and even Ben's presence felt distorted through the Force. Perhaps, he thought with a grimace, they were distantly related. Leia would have a fit, he thought next with a brief snicker at his friend's expense.

He was largely untrained in the Force though, so he knew he really had no idea what he was talking about. Perhaps given enough time he could become a great Jedi Knight, just like his father before him. The thought filled him with a glowing sense of pride that he barely noticed the darkening sense from Vader, and he basked in the feeling of Light for several moments, until the meaning of time slipped away and the sounds of screeching TIE fighters fell on deaf ears.

At least, until the killings started.

Immersed in the Force as he was, he felt each explosion, each death reverberate through him, the pain ricocheting around him with each snuffing of the life-force. He tried to draw away from the Force, but he was unable, stuck to the deaths both in space and on land. He vaguely recalled Ben's near collapse when Alderaan was destroyed and couldn't even begin to imagine the pain that must have called the old man if these few deaths were shaking him so.

_No!_ he mentally cried out, feeling the tears build in his eyes. These people were innocents, ruthlessly murdered by the Imperial Empire in their quest for freedom. He wanted to vomit at the darkness encasing the Star Destroyer, slowly seeping out into space and down onto the land below him. His hatred for Vader and the Empire surged forth with each passing minute, churning within him with such anger he felt his physical body vibrating with the intensity of it. _No no no nononononononono!_

Finally, after what seemed like hours and days and year and millennia, the fighting ceased; an Imperial Victory.

Throwing himself from the Force Luke heaved on his hands and knees, barely aware he was on the floor, only trying to compel his stomach to release the contents it did not hold. Clenching his fingers into fists he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the echoes of the screams he should not have heard.

"Bastard," he whispered once he had regained control of himself, wiping his arm across his mouth. Small splatters of saliva and stomach bile littered the floor where he knelt but he didn't care. Let the Death Lord clean it up.

Shakily getting to his feet he stumbled to the couch and fell down on top of it again, too exhausted to make it to his bedroom. Did his bed even have sheets on it yet? He didn't care. He didn't care about what the Dark Beast would do to him if he found him sleeping either. All he cared about was destroying the beast like he had destroyed the lives of countless innocents. All he cared about was revenge.

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Vader climbed out of his TIE fighter with grim satisfaction. The so-called rebels were little more than farmers who held a grudge against the Empire and his fleet and battalion had wiped them out all too easily. Had they a few more weeks, the actual Rebellion might have joined them in their plight, but it was too late now. Much too late.

The few ancient snub fighters the resistance had, relics from the Clone Wars that were already falling apart, were no match for the Empire's hardened pilots with their advanced crafts and weapons. It was only a pity that the fighting was over before it truly began. Vader missed real combat, where your opponent was skilled and not easily defeated. He missed killing Jedi.

Without that thought his mind turned towards his s—prisoner, and felt the lingering whiff of darkness he had felt coming from the boy. He had felt his probing presence earlier before the battle, and during it, he had felt his anger surging with each passing moment. He would make a powerful addition to the Dark Side. He need only continue training him the name of the Emperor, and then perhaps he may become strong enough to help Vader bring Sidious down. And then they could rule the galaxy as father and son!

Checked at that thought, Vader hesitated in his approach of the boy's room. He was Anakin's son. If he acknowledged the boy as his own, he would be admitting to being that weak Jedi fool, which was a preposterous thought. He had shed that name, that identity, that weakness. And with it every last tie to that former life. Could he so easily reclaim even a small portion of it?

Vader growled as he aborted his journey and instead headed into the duelling room, needing an outlet for his anger, one that did not involve having to replace crewmembers. He was woefully short staffed as he was, going through an increasingly growing number ever since that dratted Rebel boy entered his life.

It was only an hour or so later when he felt the first stirrings of the boy's nightmares. Holding up a hand to halt the sparring droid he tilted his head as he attuned himself to the Force and allowed himself to briefly touch what was troubling his captive. The aftermath cause of the recent battle, if it could be called that, most likely. The boy was too kind-hearted for his own good. Vader would have to teach him out of that. They were necessary deaths, even desired ones. They were like the wilting ends of a plant, they had to be trimmed, cut off to preserve the life and growth of the whole. They were a weakness that had to be exterminated.

He grimaced behind his mask as he tried to return to his spar, but find he could not focus on it. He had, of course, felt the earlier nightmares of the boy though he had refused to act upon it. There was some stirring of the Force with them, but they were not true visions, they only held the potential to be. He knew both kinds well. It was obvious the boy was growing in the Force every day. Soon it would be time to reveal the truth…if he so chose to.

He wanted to tell the boy, and yet the implications of what it would mean were undesired, not to mention dangerous.

Perhaps when the boy was stronger, and did not rely so heavily on the Light Side.

Speaking of the Light Side…Vader mused on the muted Force presence he had felt when the boy had been meditating, reminding him for one crazy moment of his old Jedi Master…but that was impossible!

…wasn't it?

When he had tried to focus on the presence it had slipped away, and Vader doubted it had even been there in the first place, but he wouldn't put it past Kenobi to haunt him from beyond the grave. Thank the Maker there were no such things as ghosts…right?

Shaking his helmeted head he let out a hoarse sigh, a difficult thing to do with his mechanical lungs and breath regulator, but he was nothing if not stubborn and if he wanted to sigh dammit he would sigh! It came out sounding weird, yes, but it was an equivalent to a sigh nonetheless.

A sharp spike in the Force again drew his attention to the boy, and he wondered what atrocities were playing out in his mind's eye. He was sure he was probably involved in some way, and he idly wondered how the boy's dreams would change if he knew Vader was his father…a useless thought he quickly quashed! Such pointless ponderings were…pointless.

Curse the boy for causing a Dark Lord of the Sith such strife!

Skywalker was more trouble than he was worth…and he was absolutely in no way, shape, or form worried about him or felt any desire to go check on him. He wasn't some pandering parent needing to tuck his child into bed at night and chase away all the monsters under the bed. He was a Sith Lord, stang it all, _he WAS the monster_!

So why did he find himself standing outside the boy's rooms, staring vacantly at the door, the two guards there staring up at him rather uneasily?

Stupid, stupid boy.

With another growl, he Forced the door open and strode in, instantly taking in the tossing and turning boy before him, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Drawing closer he watched as Skywalker shivered, obviously still unaccustomed to the coldness of space after living most of his life on that barren Force-forsaken desert planet. With a grumble used a Force suggestion to keep the boy asleep and picked him up, not wanting his Dark Side candidate to die of hypothermia or anything before he could present him to his Master.

Where the Force where the boy's bed sheets?

Muttering to himself he set Skywalker down on the window seat and went to the cupboard with the spare linens, using the Force to quickly and efficiently make the bed. He would have a droid come in to make sure it was made properly from now on, or just make the boy do it. Obi-Wan would have had his hide if he had left his bed a mess like this. Honestly, the youth nowadays…

Picking up the boy again he contemplated just dropping the boy on the bed but decided he didn't want to deal with his incessant whinging and backtalk so he instead made sure to set him down relatively softly and then flung the covers over him. He started to move away when Skywalker made a moaning noise and jerked in his sleep, dishevelling the blanket. Of course.

So Vader was of course forced to stride back over and hamper the boy's further movements by inserting the folds of the bedding more firmly around the boy and a little under the mattress cushion to make sure he would not develop a hacking cough similar to that joke of a general Kenobi had dispatched of. One of the few things Vader approved of from the other man. To further ensure the Emperor's newest servant did not catch anything diabolical, he let out another sigh and used the Force to send calm towards the boy, hoping the boy would not keep him up with his nightmares again as he lightly passed his hand over the boy's head.

"I have you now Skywalker. I will not let you get away," he darkly intoned before striding out of the room. Only to come across the sick and with yet another grimace ordered one of the guards to clean it up. Honestly.

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Luke shivered as he crouched on the floor, the battering screams and chill flowing around him as he wrapped his arms around his legs, a few silent tears dripping down his cheeks. The familiar harsh breathing made him start, only to later realise it wasn't the breathing he had grown so familiar with after all, and instead a soothing breath tickled his ears as a gentle arm draped across his shoulders.

"Don't worry Luke, I have you son," the man crouching beside him said, a smile lighting up his blue eyes. "I won't let anything get you tonight. Sleep. I'm not going anywhere."

With a gentle smile of his own Luke complied, snuggling into the warmth the man provided, the death screams and angry yelling fading away as he blissfully fell into a dreamless sleep, one word crossing his lips in the waking world as he curled up underneath the covers.

"Father."

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**A/N:** Whooooooo. I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry it's taken so long to update. It's been crazy here. I had to stay in a hotel whose internet was screwy, and now it's the month of October and I work in a haunted house so I hardly have time at the computer anymore. This chapter is shorter than I wanted it to be, but I got to the stopping point so what could I do?

Hopefully some of the lightness in this chapter made up for the utter angst of the previous one. I do plan more Piett/Artoo soon. Heh. And I'm sorry about any mistakes, but I'm getting rushed off the computer so don't have too much time to go over it. I just want to post it! Blah.


	9. Getting Off the Fence Can Be Hard

**IX**

Luke rolled out of bed, the urgent need to use the refresher drawing him unwillingly from his deep slumber, and it was only after he had washed his hands and started the process of crawling back under the covers that he realised he did not remember getting in them in the first place. In fact, unless some droid had come in to refit the bed with sheets, he doubted there had been any on them since he threw them off. As far as he knew, however, Vader hadn't known his bed was unmade.

Strange.

Collapsing back on the pillow, he tried to grasp the elusive sleep again, but to no avail, and with a snort, he sat up and leaned back against the pillows. He supposed he ought to take a shower, but it was so calm right now that he wanted to enjoy the silence, especially since he knew the Dark Jerk would be in any minute now to remind him he was, in fact, in hell.

With a grumbling groan, he decided he'd rather shower now and try to rest after, rather than put it off and not be able to once Vader showed up. He made no attempt to hurry up at first, figuring Vader could wait until he decided he was clean enough, until the thought of Vader striding into the refresher and dragging him out while still covered in suds popped into his head. He didn't think he could live through that particular mortification.

Thankfully, he was just coming out of the refresher towelling his hair dry, when Vader entered the common area.

"Ah. Awake I see." Vader set a container on the couch and indicated it with a flick of his wrist. "Your new clothes."

"Oh joy. What's the bill? I'll have the Alliance send you the credits," Luke snarked tossing the dampened towel over the back of the closest chair. Truth be told, he was quite grateful for some regular clothes, the borrowed ones he had been wearing were staring to grate on his nerves.

"Cheek first, self-preservation second I see," Vader intoned. "I have no idea how you have survived for so long."

Luke shrugged and strode over the container to rifle through his choices. He was unsurprised to see they were all black. "You and me both, my Lord," he airily breathed. "However it seems only with you does the cheek predominate and the self-preservation is nonexistent. Excuse me now while I change."

He shouldn't be so flippant. He knew that. Nonetheless, it was very hard to be otherwise, even when he tried. He waffled between flippant, angry, or morose. He refused to show the monster his sorrow, and he knew he had to keep his anger in check lest he touch the Dark Side, so the only viable option was to be, as the Dark Hutt Lover called it, cheeky.

He swiftly changed, not wanting to even risk Lord Dung-face striding into his room while he was still undressed, and re-entered the common area only to have his towel thrown into his face. With a scowl, he peeled it off, glaring at the bastard.

"These rooms are not your laundry chute, put your towel away where it belongs, and do not let it happen again," Vader darkly warned.

Turning away so the monster could not see his face, Luke rolled his eyes silently mocking him, before doing as he was told and tossing the soiled towels and clothes down the chute. Walking back out he had to refrain from rolling his eyes again. "Who do you think you are, my father?" he grumbled.

Inexplicitly the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees and Luke shivered as he felt the monster's own glare. Vader, however, made no comment and instead bade Luke to follow him. With a huff and frown, Luke had no recourse but to obey, and so clamped his mouth shut tight and trailed after the jerk's flapping cloak to who knew where.

"After meditation we will work more on your Force abilities before furthering your lightsabre practice," Vader stated. Luke paled in memory and flexed his right hand at that pronouncement. "You will then meditate again."

"You really like to meditate, don't you?" Luke muttered as soon as they passed through the doorway of their destination.

"Meditation brings you closer to the Force. Your lightsabre may be your life, but the Force is your soul. When I am through with you, you shall be able to touch upon the presence of every individual on this ship, and know them intimately."

"Ooh. About that. You see, I already have a girlfriend."

Vader paused, titling his head a little in the fashion that reminded him of Leia, and regarded him with what appeared to be genuine interest. "Do you now?"

"Er. Well, no. That was just a joke. Why?" he questioned, suddenly suspicious. "Planning on using her against me?"

"The Jedi forbid attachments."

Was it just him or did Vader's voice sound a little bitter just then?

"My father was a Jedi," Luke frowned. "He obviously had attachments."

"Yes, and look where it got him," was Vader's snide reply. He quickly had to order Luke to remain still, as the younger man had lunged at him then, and pointed his finger at the stuck boy. "Who needs to use a nonexistent girlfriend against you, when the mere mention of your father sends you deeper and deeper into the Dark Side? You _will_ swear allegiance to the Emperor and _mean_ it by the time I'm through with you."

"You can get me to recite the words but I'll never mean it. I will not become another lapdog to that depraved monster!"

"We will see. In the meantime, begin your meditation. You are pitifully weak in it. You disappoint me. I'm sure your father would be equally disappointed were he in this room. A disgrace," Vader sneered. "I shall return shortly."

Luke stuck his tongue out at the retreating back.

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Vader needed to fly. He needed to get in his TIE and just kriffing fly. He immediately looked around, worried Obi-Wan would somehow hear his thoughts and reprimand him on his language, before freezing as he realised what he was doing. He wasn't the man's Padawan any longer, and in fact, the man had been dead for quite some time now.

It was the boy's fault. He kept making Vader think about his past life. Kept making him remember how things used to be.

Well…kriff it then. Kriff kriff kriff. Hah! Take that Kenobi.

When one of the passing engineers gave him a frightened look, face paling to an unnatural pallor, he realised that a slightly maniacal, unhinged, and possibly crazed laugh just erupted from his lips. This would not do. Skywalker was making him insane. If the boy didn't break soon, he would not be held accountable for his actions, and then of course he would have to get a whole new crew.

Kark it all.

Hopefully another pseudo-rebellion would crop up so he could unleash his aggravation in a healthier way. For now, however, he would consent to simply flying. Luke liked flying. Maybe he could entice the boy into further submission by allowing the boy a treat…

With a grunt of disgust, Vader hurried to the bridge, aghast at realising he had almost turned back around to immediately invite the boy out, and that he would even think such things as handing out treats to his prisoner, for that was all Skywalker was. He had to think of the boy as Skywalker and not Luke. He could not become too familiar with the boy. Could not think of him as anything other than his own Lord and Master's newest servant.

He had to stop thinking of him as 'the boy.'

Yet boy he was. Twenty years he may be, but a boy was all Vader could see, a boy who reminded him starkly of the woman he tried so hard to forget. Had he inherited Anakin's height perhaps he could see him as his age, but no, he had the short stature so characteristic of his mother.

Then again, Shmi had been even shorter, but that was another woman he could not bear thinking of.

It was a supremely agitated Sith Lord that finally made it to the bridge, and Vader took perverse satisfaction at how all the crew instantly shivered and cowered away as he strode up to Ozzel, who was not an exception though the _wermo_ tried to hide it. Stang it, sometimes he just really wanted to pull out all of Ozzel's stupid little greying moustache, preferably hair by hair. With the Force. Yeah, that'd be good.

"My Lord, what can I do for you?" the obsequious man queried after a firm salute.

"Bring the _Executor_ out of hyperspace. Immediately."

Ozzel blinked before nervously licking his lips. "But my Lord—"

Behind his mask, Vader sneered. "Is there a problem Admiral?" he asked in dangerous tones. He wished for an instant that he could employ the silky dulcet tones he had used before the need of artificial lungs, the kind of which had grown men shaking in their boots though he never spoke louder than a whisper, and that was when he was still a Jedi. Imagine what the reaction would be when the barest hint of the Dark Side could seep through his tone.

"N-no my Lord," Ozzel stuttered. His pompous moustache stood out starkly against his pallid complexion.

"Good. You will then order the crew to bring _my_ ship out of hyperspace to idle. I will be in my TIE orbiting around the _Executor_ and you will have it remain stationary until my return, at which point you will continue our journey through hyperspace towards out destination, or have I not made myself clear? Perhaps my orders are not to your liking?"

"Of course not my Lord. Your will shall be done." With abrupt arm signals Ozzel began commanding the crew into obedience of Vader's orders, though the Sith had already spun around heading towards the bay where his personalised fighter was stored, knowing that it would be prepped and ready to go by the time he got there.

Perhaps after an hour or two of unrestrained flight he would be coherent enough to deal with the Skywalker brat, without giving into the overwhelming urge to detach another body part, especially one not easily mended with cyber electronics. Or worse, the urge to tell the boy the truth behind his parentage, and the reason Vader had not yet killed him.

Knowing the boy, he would get the misguided idea that it was from some displaced sense of familial loyalty, and that he could somehow convince Vader to rejoin the Light. Hah. As if that were such a possibility. It would do the boy well to realise that Vader was now and forever firmly ensconced in the Dark Side, and nothing and no one could or would chance, and it would be easier to submit that attempt any heroics.

Damn blasted boy. Where did he get such a nature?

Probably from his mother's side…

And there began the circling thoughts all over again.

With a growl of frustration, Vader stormed through the bay's doors, Forcefully tossing a mechanic aside that was in his way. He paid no attention to the sickening crunch of breaking bones as the dark suited body met the pristine white wall with a solid thud, nor did he pay attention to the others rapidly moving out of his way, his red-glazed eyes only seeing his blessed fight craft.

Quickly climbing the steps and settling into his TIE he waved his wingman away, not needing them for this excursion, and half-hoping some idiotic Rebel would happen by to engage in a dogfight with. He knew, however, such wishful thinking was in vain.

It was therefore with a determined glint in his masked eyes that he shot out of the hanger's opening and screeched into the dark space sky. He spiralled and he looped, he twisted and he turned, and most of all he forgot. He focused on the Force, focused in a way he had not for quite some time, and simply flew.

The stars streaked by as if in hyperspace as he raced along the length of his _Executor_, circling it in every direction at breakneck speeds, scant centimetres between the Destroyer and the TIE as he sailed past. It was no podracer but it was exhilarating all the same. He never felt freer than when he was flying. He belonged in the sky. Amongst the stars…he was a god.

He jerked the consolees a little when he felt the fluttering presence of his captive lightly touch upon him before skittering away, startled by the already familiar touch, and knowing instinctively that the boy was still angry at him and yet ever so curious. He obviously felt the connection between them but had no idea what it was. What it meant. It would bear careful watching so Skywalker did not find out before the right time.

The boy was hesitant to probe further. He did not want to draw the Sith Lord's attention. If only the boy realised the Sith Lord thought of little else. They could be so strong together…ruling as father and son…

Realisation set in, and with a hasty focus in the Force, Darth Vader more firmly shrouded himself in the Dark Side. The previous thoughts he had to forget. The boy was already weakening him. This was dangerous indeed. The boy must be brought to heel.

Stretching out with the Dark Side, Vader sent a wave of his determination towards Skywalker, who just as hastily retreated and turned his attention to the rest of the occupants of the ship. With a ruthlessly quashed sense of admiration, Vader felt the Force-strength of the boy rapidly growing, and he knew soon the time would be ripe to push the boy into the Darker aspects of the Force.

The boy had one natural hand…perhaps one day he could achieve the Sith's power of Force Lightning. Perhaps then the boy would be strong enough to join Vader's side in overthrowing Palpatine. It was a heady thought.

But first the boy must seem as no threat to Vader's Master. If the Emperor suspected even for a moment that Luke could be used against him, he would order Vader to dispose of him immediately, and all his carefully constructed plans would be nothing but Bantha _poodoo_. The boy must put on a show of loyalty and obedience, must _become_ loyal and obedient, at least for long enough for their strength to grow.

Vader knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that any time now Sidious would contact him and question him as to why he felt such disturbances in the Force. Vader's explanations and reasonings would have to be more than sufficient to defuse the Emperor's wrath and convince him to allow Vader's ministrations to continue. The thought of a new Force-strong Apprentice might not be enough of a lure if Luke was deemed too much of a threat. After all, he obviously would not obey anyone other than Vader himself, something he knew his Dark Master would not approve of.

"Stars!" Vader hissed to himself. He had come out to fly to ignore these thoughts and yet they continued to plague him. If Skywalker was to die then so be it. Vader had no personal feelings on the matter.

Vader felt nothing at all.

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"So I have definitely died and this is hell."

"Your tedious commentary grows tiresome."

"Redundancy," Luke grunted as he focused as much as he was able on the task at hand. It really shouldn't be so difficult. Just moving a few bits here and there. Stacking things as ordered. Except the bits were larger than he was, the stacking was convoluted, and the Dark Twit was using the Force to push everything down making it harder.

"What is redundant is my continued reprimands concerning your incompetence!" Vader snapped.

"Go rot in Boboqueequee," Luke growled through his teeth as he painstakingly dragged a component wider than he was tall across the floor to stack on top of a pile of much smaller odds and ends. His shirt was already stuck to his back with sweat, and the exertion of fighting against Vader's control was giving him a splitting migraine, but his _Master_ had not said he could stop yet so he soldiered on.

"What is your fascination with sending me to these places?" Vader intoned as if truly curious.

"It's no less than a monster like you deserves," Luke gritted out, just barely managing to precariously balance the much larger item on the smaller before it was all sent crashing down, and Luke though he might just cry at the unfairness of it all.

"Again."

"I _can't_," Luke whined, though he couldn't help sticking out a shaking hand as he was ordered, trying to once again lift the miscellaneous items to do as instructed.

"Pathetic."

"I'm so tired," Luke moaned, the items shaking in his control before dropping back to the ground, no matter how hard he tried to keep them afloat.

"_Keel-ee calleya ku kah_," Vader sneered.

"I couldn't give a flying frag, _ma Lorda_," Luke listlessly mumbled as he tiredly flapped his hand about trying to call on the strength to do the task again.

"The Emperor will kill you on site for your lack of effort."

"Good. Get this whole thing over with," Luke sighed.

"Enough!" Vader snapped startling Luke for a moment at the sudden vehemence in the Sith's voice. "You wish to complain about this work, fine, we shall move on to the next." With a skilled flick of his wrist he sent everything crashing to the side to clear a space for them and grasped his sabre from his belt. "Prepare yourself."

"What, right now?" Luke complained, though he couldn't stop his hand from reaching for his belt and unclipping his own lightsabre hitched there. The thrum of the blue blade was both comforting in its familiarity and disconcerting at its new experience.

"No time like the present," Vader mocked before jumping forward and bringing his red blade down.

Luke reacted on instinct and brought his blue up to block, the clashing of the blades almost too much for Luke's weakened limbs, and he clenched the teeth as the sabres slid against each other sizzling. Taking a quick deep breath, he focused all his remaining strength into his arms and lifted the blades up, throwing Vader's off and taking a few steps back to gain distance.

"You must draw upon the Force to sustain you. Take your anger, your frustration, your _fear_ and channel it into the Dark Side," Vader intoned before beginning a new attacking, sweeping up at the last moment and catching Luke off guard. Luke barely had time to dodge and parry, the sweat trickling into his eyes and burning them, his muscles quivering at the continued exercise.

"I can't," Luke huffed. "I won't turn." Breathing heavily through his nose, he twirled away from the murderous crimson blade and made a half-hearted sweep at Vader's legs, knowing the Sith Lord would easily dodge it.

"Then you are _weak_!"

"Compassion isn't weakness!" Luke protested. He spun his sword around to knock Vader's attack off target and quickly followed it up with a spin aimed at Vader's shoulders.

"It makes you slow, weak, pathetic."

"I'd rather be pathetic than a murderer."

"You want revenge, I can see it," Vader chuckled. "Must I again inform you that your feelings give you away young Skywalker. I killed your father, your beloved mentor, and now I'm going to kill your precious friends. I will quash the Rebellion like an annoying bug."

"Not before they quash you!" Luke exclaimed through clenched teeth. His very gums ached with the continued strenuous activity, and Luke wondered when the duel would end, and if he would lose any other body parts to it. The mere thought caused him to miss a step, and a moment later he hissed in pain as the monster's sabre grazed his leg, reminding him to keep his mind on the battle and not on the beast's words.

How very endearing. The Rebellion is nothing next to the power of the Dark Side!"

"Then why has it taken you so long to _quash us_?"

"Your insolence will be your downfall boy."

"I've lost count of how man death threats you've thrown at me. Why don't you hurry up and give me the real thing my Lord?"

"Why don't I take another limb of yours while I'm at it," growled Vader, to which Luke tightened his grip on his sabre and gritted his teeth in something other than pain and exhaustion.

The world came a little more in focus as he glared at the Dark Lord, watching nothing more than to rip that stupid helmet off his head and stare the jerk in the eye while avenging all those he had lost, or might lose yet. With a yell, he took the true offensive and slashed at the monster a few times, his crystal blue eyes darkening as he danced around the crimson shaft.

"Yes, give in to it," Vader intoned. "Give in to your hate and thirst for vengeance. Give in to your anger. We could be strong Luke. Unstoppable. The galaxy will tremble at our knees."

Brown eyes, full of pain and sadness, flashed before his mind's eye. Leia? Or someone else…?

"No!" Luke yelled twisting his blade around Vader's to knock it aside and give him and opening to get away from the twirling sabres. "I won't!"

"Oh but you will," Vader sneered. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. It is inevitable. It is your _destiny_."

"I can pick my own destiny," Luke growled. "You may make me say the words but you are not my master, _Master_."

"We shall see," Vader replied sounding almost as if he were smirking, which only infuriated Luke more, though he tried to keep calm. That was exactly what the monster wanted and he would be damned before he gave in!

"Nothing you can say will make me turn. You will have to kill me like you killed my father!"

"Be careful what you wish for!" Vader yelled with a dark chuckle before pouncing once more on Luke and burying him in an avalanche of thrusts and slices, his weaving blade a ruby blur as it hummed and crackled so close to Luke's person he could feel the heat, barely able to block in time and hardly able to parry.

"I wish you were dead!" Luke ground out snatching at the Force to give him more leverage. Pushing against Vader he ducked a sweep of sabre and brought his own up to try to knock Vader's further aside but the monster was stronger and soon as the advantage again. A deep rumbling growl could be heard coming from Vader and Luke feared what would happen if he struck Vader again. A hand was the least of his worries.

Had Luke had time to rest before this next gruelling exercise, perhaps he could have put up more of a fight, but as it was, he was quickly tiring and he didn't know how much longer he could last. The Force was cautioning him about avoiding nasty stabs but Vader's sabre still came far too close for comfort at times and Luke was in no shape to continue for any further stretch of time. And that blasted heavy breathing was just so blasted annoying!

Hit suddenly by inspiration, and amazed he had not thought of this before, Luke threw himself to the floor to avoid a swipe from Vader to give himself further time to concentrate and once more drew mightily upon the Force. He was not as calm as he wished to be, and he knew some of the Force was drawn by his agitation, but he could not help it. He needed this duel to be over _now_.

_Help me Ben…_

With a yell, Luke pulled the Force in and then pushed it out in a thin stream straight at Vader's unsuspecting chest, aimed entirely on the Dark Monster's control panel. The light clicked as he hit his target and Vader's respiratory system jammed for a moment shutting down his systems.

Vader made a choking garbled sound as he sunk to one knee, obviously surprised, and Luke brought his blade down towards his neck. He hesitated in that instant though, the memory of his nightmare with Vader's decapitated head flashing before his mind's eye, and that was all Vader needed to obtain the upper hand again.

An angry yell pushed out from Vader's damaged throat and lungs as he fixed his suit's system and Luke found himself hurtling backwards to slam into a wall. He dropped his sabre at the impact, which deactivated, and dropped the foot or so to the ground once the barrage of the Force let him how. However, he scarcely gotten his breath back from the solid shock when Vader's giant gloved hand latched onto his throat and hoisted him back up, feet dangling off the ground as he desperately clutched at the solid forearm in an attempt to get air into his lungs.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance, Skywalker," Vader ground out in a deadlier voice than Luke had ever heard. "That will be the only chance you will get that way. Next time don't hesitate."

An idle recess in Luke's mind took heart that there would apparently be a next time, but he was so absorbed in trying to get oxygen in his lungs that he could hardly think of any snappy comebacks, much less get them past his quickly turning blue lips. He squeezed his eyes shut when Vader's grip tightened, wondering if perhaps it had been a figure of speech and he really would die that day, and forced one word out of his lips in regret. Even to his own ears, it was hardly recognisable in its rasp, though he hoped everyone would forgive him for not avenging them.

"Dad."

With a sudden indrawn of air that seemed to whoosh louder than normal, Vader released Luke's throat and took a step back, leaving Luke to once more collapse to his knees and cough as he tried to get his own air through his battered and bruised throat.

Space, it hurt. Every breath of air scratched against his throat and seared his lungs, and even as he curled up over his knees, he prayed Vader wouldn't start in on him again. He didn't think he could handle any more of it, though he was sure what he was going through right then was nothing compared to what Leia had to put up with, which gave him the strength to shakily stand up and glared at their tormentor.

"What's the matter, _my Lord_, don't want to kill your favourite new toy just yet?" he asked as nastily as he could, though the wheezing and coughing that overtook him probably took all the menace out of it. He was just so tired. He knew, somehow he knew, that if he were to die Leia would feel it. He wondered if the release of his pain was worth the pain his death would cause her.

He knew the answer immediately. It wasn't. The good of the many over the good of the few, or the one though, right? Somehow, though he doubted it before, he knew that Leia would never give up if he was still alive. And if she got captured again because of him…

Ugh, it was all just so confusing, especially when all he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep for an eternity.

"Go to your room," Vader finally announced into what Luke suddenly realised had been an awkward silence.

"Aren't you going to—"

"_GO_!" Vader roared as much as he was able and Luke flinched back before he found himself stumbling out of the training room and towards his own, for the first time unaccompanied in the main part of the ship, without Vader leading him to his gilded cage.

Except right now…at that moment…it was more like a sanctuary.

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For long moments Vader stared at the spot Luke had been standing, gasping for painful breath, that defiant look still in his eye even as fear started crowding in.

Dad. He'd said _Dad_.

With a swirl of his cloak, he exited the room, barely having a mind to pull his two deactivated lightsabres into his hands to clip to his belt before heading straight to his meditation chamber. He closed the seal once inside and had the computer remove his mask, sucking in his own painful lungfuls of the special oxygen, trying to get those damned eyes out of his head.

_Anakin…_

Gasping breath, tearful eyes, yearning for that which they loved…and lost. Why couldn't Padmé have stayed dead? Why did she have to live on through her child! Her child he had thought was lost…

Luke looked so much like his father, he was sure, so why did he continue to evoke such memories of his mother?

_You've turned her against me…_

_You have done that yourself…_

_You will not take her from me…_

Luke didn't know. The one second of fanciful thought was over and Vader realised the boy wasn't calling to him but to the man he believed his father to have been. Anakin Skywalker. Jedi. Husband. Father. Dead. Murdered.

Just as well. Those pleading eyes did not stop him last time. They will not stop him now. Should the boy continue to prove recalcitrant he will be forced to kill him himself. His Master will demand it.

His Master.

After letting the boy off on his own, there would no doubt be reports back to Palpatine, and Vader would have to pay the price. He did not need another threat of Force Lighting from that decaying sack of rotting flesh.

By the Force. He was starting to sound like his son.

Son.

Wiping a weary hand down his face he realised he was getting in too deep. He had to inform the Emperor now. Had to make the man see what a great idea it was to train the boy. If he didn't…if the Emperor saw the boy as too great a threat…then Vader might as well not have found him at all.

There was no time to lose. He could not have the deep meditation he required. He could merely get the surface emotions under control and then he had to connect to his Master. Somehow, no matter how many years it had been, there were times when he still felt like the young Padawan Apprentice called to task for some prank or misdeed.

At least, however, Obi-Wan had never made him fear for his life while growing up. That came later, when his old Master had tried to kill him on Mustafar, and even then he had been too eaten up by rage to feel any fear. Hm. Had he ever truly been afraid of Obi-Wan?

Thinking back on the cryptic message the old man had given him before his body had disappeared, as well as the strange Force presence he had felt while Skywalker had been meditating, he realised he had felt the first inklings of true fear. Was it possible Kenobi had grown more powerful?

No. He was a traitor, a betrayer, a liar. However it happened, Vader would not fear some ghost, no matter who it looked like. Nothing could be scarier than his reality.

With that thought firmly in mind, Vader cleared his mind and emotions, pushing everything but that which his Master would approve of to the dark recesses of his mind. Anger, always anger for what the Jedi had reduced him to, even as he feels gratitude to Sidious for taking him under his wing and giving him a rebirth. Hatred for the Rebellion and all its sympathisers for ruining his and his Master's idyllic Empire. These were his constant companions. These he could feel.

And now, to keep the boy safe until such a time he was ready to follow his destiny and birthright, he would feel disgust towards Skywalker. Disgust that the son of Anakin Skywalker, Jedi, still lives. Disgust that it was young Skywalker who blew up the Death Star. Disgust that he was weak and yet had so much potential. Wary thought on the potential. Perhaps the boy could be a great tool for his Master…

Ignore everything else but that wish Darth Sidious and Emperor Palpatine both would approve of. Yes. He could do that. He _would_ do that.

For Luke.

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Vader paced before the console, waiting for the word that the Emperor was ready to speak with his most faithful servant, waiting for the time to bow. He hated when Palpatine kept him waiting, again feeling like a scolded child, but he was careful to keep the majority of those emotions at bay. Feel only what was necessary, release everything else to the Dark Side, wrap yourself in your anger and hatred.

He had anger and hatred in Staves.

He jerked to a stop as the console beeped. It was time.

Striding to the hologram communicator, he kneeled and bowed his head just as the Emperor appeared on the screen, and he found himself thinking back all those years ago when he had first joined this man's ranks. Perhaps soon he would be in Palpatine's spot and his son would be in his.

"Master," Vader intoned.

"I heard you have news for me Lord Vader. Perhaps it has something to do with the destroyer of the Death Star?"

"Yes my Master. I bring most unprecedented news. I know the identity of the Rebel pilot."

"And just who is he?"

"His name is Luke Skywalker, Master. He is the son of Anakin Skywalker."

The Emperor was silent for a moment and Vader finally looked up at him. The Emperor's glowing yellow eyes narrowed in his hood. "Anakin Skywalker's son you say? How does this make you feel Lord Vader?"

"Angry, Master."

"Angry? Why ever would you feel angry?" the Emperor murmured.

"Kenobi must have taken Skywalker and hid him. All Jedi must die. Kenobi was raising Anakin's son to be a Jedi before I slew him. Thankfully, the boy is ill-prepared. I…took the liberty of testing his skills once the truth of his parentage was revealed."

"Did you now?" Bared yellow teeth were not a good sign. "And what did you find out?" Palpatine mocked.

"The boy could be a great asset to you my Master. He is untrained, yes, but he is full of anger and vengeance. If we could manipulate him to the Dark Side…" he left the bait hanging tantalisingly. He was no fool. Palpatine was always looking for newer, younger Apprentices, and the son of Skywalker unburdened by a cumbersome black suit was too juicy a morsel to dismiss out of hand.

"Hmmm. I see. Yes, we could work this to our advantage…does young Skywalker yet know of the connection between you two?" Palpatine sneered.

"He knows I killed his father. He hungers for revenge against me most of all."

"Excellent," the Emperor drawled out sounding amused. "Yes, yes, this is quite fortuitous. Is there anything else of note to mention?"

Vader felt his hackles rise. The Emperor again had that knowing lilt to his voice. Vader would have bet his right glove that Palpatine had known the captive boy was Vader's son almost immediately. He obviously knew something else was going on as well.

"Actually, Master," Vader murmured tilting his head as much as he could as if in contemplation. "There is something queer about him. I have yet to figure it out. He seems, at the moment, disinclined to disobey me. I do not know if he is merely trying to lull me into a trap of complacency or not, but I am the only one he seems to obey without question, though I can feel his anger and hatred growing each day."

"Hm, very interesting. Continue as you have Lord Vader. I have important plans to see to concerning our second Star, so I do not have time to play babysitter. Teach the boy the ways of the Dark Side, and when he is ready you will deliver him to me to become my newest Apprentice." The smile he bestowed on his current Apprentice was positively evil.

"Your will is my own, Master." Clasping his fist to his heart the hologram disconnected, without a word spoken about the secret agents, and Vader allowed himself to relax. For now.

_Always two there are, no more, no less. A master and an apprentice._

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**Princess Organa's Sleep Chambers…**

Leia sighed, packing the last bit of the stuff necessary for her secret jaunt with space pirates in a totally idiotic attempt to save a captured Rebel pilot, who just so happened to be one of her best friends.

Was she making the right decision? Would they be able to find Vader's vessel and sneak onboard? She doubted the same stunt could be pulled twice. Without Artoo how would they know where Luke was being held? But most importantly…could her heart survive without doing this?

The worth outweighed the risk.

Sitting on the floor beside the bed, she contemplated how they were going to do this, now that Han was finally close to fixing that piece of junk ship. The Council would be after her case when they found out. She would be coming back with Luke, though, or she wouldn't be coming back at all.

With a final determined sigh, she hoisted her pack on her back and headed to the hanger housing the _Millennium Falcon_ where Han and Chewie were waiting to go over last minute plans, and prayed to whatever was listening that she found the boy she was slowly beginning to realise she loved as more than just a friend. More like a…what?

Either way, she would not let Vader hurt her Luke, and that was a cause she was willing to die for.

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**AN: **I am SO SO SO _SO SO SO_ _**SOOOOOO**_ sorry for such a late update. My computer legitly stopped recognising my internet router or something and would not connect to the internet for the longest time. It also had a bug for a little while or something, I don't know, but it's doing better now. My poor dear computer. I think it has depression.

Anyhoo, here's the Huttese translations taken from Wookieepedia:

_Wermo_ – '_Stupid person'_

_Poodoo_ – '_Fodder_,' sometimes used as when processed into excrement.

_Boboqueequee_ – a location in Hutt mythology, probably associated with the underworld.

_Keel-ee calleya ku kah_ – '_You disappoint me_'

_Ma lorda_ – '_My lord_'

Ja ne!


	10. When Truths Become Lies

**X**

**Somewhere on the **_**Executor**_**…**

He couldn't but think them all to be idiots. Stupid Imperials. Couldn't even lock a door properly.

The door slid up with a near-silent _swish_ as he ever so carefully peeked out, looking both ways down the corridor, before easing out into the hall. Silently and stealthily he roamed the hallways, trying to find anything that looked familiar without alerting anyone or anything of his presence, and honestly letting his pride get a little in the way. Besides, he was more than willing to point out to anyone that asked, that pride wasn't vanity, conceit, or arrogance if it was true. And, for him, it was most definitely true.

Hearing voice ahead he hid behind a corner, waiting for the Buckets to march on by, before emerging from his hiding place and continuing towards his destination. It wouldn't do to get caught now.

After a while, expertly hiding from the few patrols or workers he came across, he started to feel a little cocky. If the others at the Rebel Alliance could see him now they would more than likely compare him to Han the way he was all but strutting down these corridors. He felt like he could even take on the Black Bucket of Menace if the stupid Sith Lord happened across his way. Stars, what a geek.

Finally, after what seemed like _forever_, he finally arrive in the more familiar parts of the ship. He was just about to whistle a happy little song when someone beat him to it. Crap. He should have been paying more attention to his scannings. He didn't have time to hide!

Oh no. The person he most didn't want to run into.

"OH SWEET FORCE NO!"

Uh-oh. Hurriedly backing up he took off down the hall shrieking.

"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE DROID FROM _**HELL**_!"

Twisting his dome around to give Piett the biggest raspberry he could muster, Artoo-Detoo sped down the hallways, heading back the way he came minus a few detours to enter a new location. He continued to wail, Piett chasing behind him, as he sailed past the two guards outside the door and skidded behind the blessed legs of his saviour.

"Artoo, what in the galaxy…"

"HAH!" Piett exclaimed barging through the doorway at just that moment, finger pointing with grim satisfaction at the droid cowering behind Luke. Luke, meanwhile, just blinked in confusion.

"Uh…can I help you Captain?" Luke hesitantly queried twisting around a little to peer at Artoo over his shoulder. Artoo looked up at him with beseeching sensors and chirped innocently. Luke instantly frowned.

Okay, well, having known his boy for so long, he could only assume the kid had picked up on which sounds were actually innocent, and which he were faking. But still! Benefit of the doubt please. Sheesh. Almost as bad as Threepio.

At the reminder of the missing part of his Daring Droid Duo (he was still trying to convince Threepio to start calling themselves that), Artoo softly beeped a sad tone, which his golden friend was with them. Maybe that would make Lord Buckethead remember what it was like to be Anakin Skywalker.

Maybe they could go flying together again! Ani loved flying. Just like Luke does. Poor human was probably aching to stretch his figurative wings and take back the sky. Artoo remembered the first time he had seen little Ani pilot. He could hardly wait to get into a real cockpit with the boy after seeing the way he handled the podracer. And then they saved the day!

Like father, like son. Though he figured that didn't work with 'like maker, like droid,' because Threepio was a little sissy.

Pulling out of his memory banks he realised Luke and Piett had been talking the entire time, with both of them looking a little hot under the collar, and Artoo hoped his boy didn't do anything to anger any of the Imps. He didn't have the metal casing droids had protect from kicks and thrown objects.

"Look Luke, Lord Vader asked that the droid be stored separately from you. He was supposed to be switched off too," Piett mumbled. "I don't know how he got out of the locked room anyways."

"This droid has a name. It's Artoo-Detoo. And he's the smartest, cleverest little droid you could ever meet! If Tall, Dark, and Sithy Lordship has a problem he can come in here and handle it himself."

Artoo registered a quickened heart rate, short breathes, and a change in temperature that all singled one thing: Fear.

What could strike such a fear in his Luke's heart? And, now that he processed it, did his auditory senses pick up a slightly more raspy module of speech for the boy? That wasn't right.

Whistling in concern Artoo rolled out a little ways from behind Luke to diagnose him further. He wished he was a medic droid at the moment just so that he might help him. Was he coming down with something?

"I think it's quite obvious you don't need the Dark Lord even angrier with you than he is now," Piett quietly murmured, eyes locked on Luke's throat area.

Rolling even further out, he scanned the area as well, wondering what the malfunction was. He might have been able to make out something but the perception of his senses were not made to pick out nuances of the flesh so he could not make an accurate assessment. Did someone hurt his boy?

Grimacing Luke lightly rubbed a hand over his throat. "He's going to get mad at me anyways. I'm just surprised he hasn't killed me yet. He must _really_ want me to turn."

"While one Sith around is plenty enough, would it really be so horrible to _turn_?" Piett questioned.

Artoo, understand just what happens when someone you love turns, make an angry statement about it all, rocking back and forth on his wheels and extending all kinds of gadgets, making as much noise as possible. The other two stared at him in shock.

"Artoo has it right. It would be the end of everything and everyone I care about," Luke sighed.

"But you would be one of the leaders of the Empire, wouldn't you?"

"What's an Empire when you're alone?" Luke muttered stepping around Artoo and dropping onto the couch with a flop. He groaned and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. I took a nice warm bath and I still ache all over. Discounting the nasty sabre burn. And not only that, but I still feel…dirty." He grimaced. "The Dark Side…it's fuelled by hate and anger…I didn't fully understand that until I was captured. Ben didn't have time to teach me…"

Artoo rolled up and butted against Luke's knees a little, chirruping sympathetically, wishing he could offer more comfort.

"Thanks boy," Luke smiled tiredly anyways, reaching out a hand to pat him on his swivelling dome, and Artoo tooted in welcome.

Sitting stiffly down, eyeing Artoo with a distasteful glare, Piett settled on the other end of the couch. "I don't really understand much about the Force. I was only about eight when the Great Jedi Purge took place."

Luke sneered. "I was born on the first ever Empire Day. No offence, but I'd rather not have been. I'd rather not have anything to do with the Empire. I don't know what Lord Vader…ew, I have to call him Lord Vader too…has planned but there is no way I'm going to betray the Rebellion and willingly consent to learn from him. I'd rather die first."

"Keep this up and you just might," Piett murmured. "It would be a pity. For Rebel scum you're not so bad," he said with a little half-smile.

"Yeah? Well you're not so bad for an evil Imp," Luke smiled back.

Ugh. Were they going to get mushy and form bonds of brotherhood? If so Artoo was more than willing to skip out on it. And since the captain was distracted by Luke, Artoo once more rolled to the control panel, easily bypassing all the firewalls again getting to the schematics of the ship.

Honestly, you'd think Ani would remember how amazingly smart Artoo was, but he wasn't going to look a gifted bordok in the mouth.

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Luke lifted his chin, wincing as the flesh pulled at his bruises, and tried to see how much the swelling might have gone down since Captain Piett's visit. Luke had convinced the captain to allow Artoo to stay with him, that he would make sure he stayed out of trouble, and if anything happened, he would take the blame for it, no matter what. He also got an agreement from Artoo to stay in the bedroom area to avoid Vader or any other undesirables.

Now, however, he was in the refresher checking out the telltale bruising and swelling around his neck from his _Lord's_ mechanical grip. He was in fact expecting the mechanical menace to barge through his doors any minute now and maybe pick up where he left off. Fun fun.

He was almost tempted to take another bath or shower, anything to get the feel of the Dark Side off of him, but he _really_ didn't want to be in the nude when Vader came back. That would just be awkward beyond imagining and scar him for life (however long that might be). He really didn't need that before he died. Ugh or bed for that matter. Talk about nightmares.

Walking out to the sitting room after checking on the powered down Artoo, Luke plopped on the couch again with an exhausted sigh, wishing he could just go to bed but not wanting to risk it. His leg was really beginning to ache where the bastard's blade had grazed him and he wished he had a bacta patch for it. It wasn't deep, and it hurt far less than his hand had, but it was still a discomfort he would rather not have.

Luke stretched out on the couch, hoping to alleviate some of the soreness from his overworked muscles, and even though he was not in the traditional lotus position, he closed his eyes in hopes of clearing his mind and letting his darker emotions go in a sort of meditation, needing all the help he could get. Vader was big on meditation anyways. Maybe if he stormed in Luke could just tell him he was practicing a new pose of meditation. A slight smirk on his lips at that thought Luke soon drifted into a state between meditation and slumber.

He was drifting…

_Luke…_

"Ben? Is that you?"

_Luke Skywalker, you must accept the truth…_

"What truth Ben?" Where was he?

_Luke, if you do not help your father into the light, all will be doomed…_

Wait a minute…that didn't sound like Ben's voice. He had never heard that voice before…had he? "Who are you? What do you want from me!"

_Lead the Chosen One back to the Light…the fate of the world depends on you…the fate of your sis—_

"Did I say you could fall asleep?" Vader growled.

Luke startled awake, accidentally falling off the couch with a _thud_ and groaning as his muscles protested, before scrambling to an upright position before the Dark Twerp. He eyed the monster uneasily, unsure how this encounter would go, though the last few had not turned out so well.

"I was meditating," Luke denied.

"You were snoring."

Blushing a little at that Luke scratched the back of his neck. "Eh, well, I was meditating too. You're the one that gave me the blasted comfortable couch. Not to mention worked me until my bones were crying. Can you fault me for falling asleep while meditating?"

"I was not aware meditating meant lying prostrate on your back."

"Well you learn something new every day then, don't you my Lord?" Luke snipped back.

What _was_ it about the monster that made him talk back to him with this cheeky attitude? He was twenty for Force's sake! He was a Rebel hero! He shouldn't be acting like such a kid. Especially to a man who had just come close to killing him earlier. Maybe it was lack of oxygen. Yeah, he could believe that. Or the repeated knocks to the head. Maybe it was the standing on his head! That sucked.

"I blame the Hutt dance."

"Excuse me?"

Realising he had spoken that last bit out loud Luke coughed into his hand and tried to keep the flush from coming back. Vader and the reactions he caused in Luke were an enigma all right. One Luke wondered how long he would live to investigate.

"Nothing," Luke mumbled, coughing again and this time not to cover up his embarrassment. He really did feel poorly what with his throat and muscles. He hoped Vader just wanted to meditate for the rest of the night. He would be able to get rest that way, and hopefully give his throat time to heal without spitting barbs at the monster, who gave as good as he got one way or another.

Vader reached out his hand then towards Luke's throat and, unable to help it, Luke automatically flinched back and lifted his arms as if to ward off an attack. Fat lot of good that would do, he knew, but he couldn't see himself just standing there and letting further abuse happen. Vader, however, froze his hand's journey halfway there at Luke's flinch.

An awkward silence filled the room, even greater than when Piett had been there, and Luke found he could not look up at Vader any longer. So, staring off to the side a ways, Luke tried to square his shoulders and stand as tall as possible. He didn't know what Vader was about to pull, why sometimes he would result in such degrees of violence, and other times he'd laugh things off and at most make him do a humiliating dance. It seemed to him the further he was here the angrier Vader became with him.

Could it be the things he says? The last couple times had been when Luke had mentioned his father in some way…perhaps Vader, deep down inside, felt some kind of remorse?

The very next instant Luke had to struggle not to snort out loud. The monster had no remorse. You needed a heart to feel anything and Darth Vader was more machine than man. Not a man at all. Just a monster. A murderous monster who killed every single member of Luke's family. And soon, when Luke refused to submit, he would kill the last Skywalker too.

Turning frosty blue eyes to glare into Vader's mask he crossed his arms and adopted his most defiant look.

"You are moodier than a teenage girl."

"Takes one to know one," Luke mocked. Ok, that was really childish and immature he knew, but so what? It was Darth kriffing Vader for crying aloud! Sod the beast.

"I have actually come to inform you that the Emperor knows of your existence," Vader growled out.

Shocked, Luke could only stare, his tightly coiled muscles loosening. "What?"

"I informed him who you were, and I have been charged with training you with the true Dark Side now. You are lucky the Emperor is not here or else you would become intimately familiar with his Force Lighting," Vader sneered.

Swallowing the lump in his throat Luke tried to think of a way to get away from this. The Emperor knew, which meant he would soon be taken to him, and then the real torture would begin. All of those half-thought out escape plans Artoo was hatching would have to be examined and nourished. He had to get out of here. As soon as possible.

"I have also told him of your obedience towards me."

"What? Why?" Luke asked shocked even further.

"I merely told him that for some unknown reason you choose to obey me and only me. The Emperor does not know that there is some sort of…curse on you. How I would even explain it to him I do not know," Vader mumbled. "The important thing is that we no longer need to involve secrecy. You will now follow me about the ship when I wish it and allow everyone to see what a good servant to the Emperor you will be."

Though Luke could not see his facial expressions, he would give all the credits in the galaxy to bet that the Dark Loser was smirking, quite pleased with himself.

"I am not a show animal!"

"Oh, not yet…but you will be," Vader darkly chuckled. "Now, why don't you get back to _meditating_. In fact, since you apparently love it so much, you can meditate for the rest of the night. _Mee jewz ku_!"

And with that Vader left, leaving Luke glaring after him, although he knew it wasn't a bad order for the night. He had been hoping for it, actually, for a good meditation was even better than a full night of sleep. Besides…maybe he might be able to contact that voice from earlier.

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Kriff kriff kriff!

The boy had flinched. _Flinched_! Worse, the boy had flinched, and Vader _immediately backed down_!

Well, what the Force else was he supposed to do? His reactions to the boy were becoming more and more violent. Usually he wouldn't care, but he needed the boy, needed someone as strong in the Force as Luke obviously was to help take down the Emperor.

His conflicting emotions were driving him insane. It would be so much easier if Luke would just kriffing obey him! The irony of the situation was not lost on him.

He could order the boy to physically do anything he pleased, from pushing his endurance beyond the boy's comfort zone, to having him do a humiliating jig. He only wished it worked much farther than that. Obviously Luke wasn't in touch the Dark Side as often as Vader ordered him to, so it was just as obvious that whatever was at work here wouldn't help him in any way beyond the physical, and he truly would have to break the boy down. Would have to break the soul before he could control it.

However, whenever Luke touched the Dark Side and lashed out, Vader lashed out ten times worse. He almost killed the boy for Force's sake. He knew that now that Sidious was involved, he had to tread carefully, especially when his Master wanted evidence that young Skywalker was ready to become his next Apprentice. And he also knew that it would be _next_ and not _new_. Sidious would groom Luke to overthrow Vader and take his place. Especially when the knowledge came out about the curse.

Though it was forced (or _Forced_, he was sure, if you wanted to get funny) loyalty, it was loyalty nonetheless, and it was a loyalty to someone other than the Emperor. Whatever friendship had been between Vader and Palpatine was gone now, and while the old man might be overconfident in his current Apprentice's loyalty, the existence of the boy was enough to give even the cocky Sith doubt.

Luke had to train before either of them became a liability. He would have the boy profess his loyalty and devotion, and in the deep dark nights, ready him to become something akin to a Dark Prince. It was his Destiny.

In the meantime, however, Vader had to figure out a way to keep from killing the boy. If only he would stop bringing up the past!

Vader internally growled, fists clenching behind his back, as he glared out of the viewing pane of the bridge. Piett was there, as well as that moron of his superior, Ozzel. He was becoming more and more ready to kill the man, just for sheer incompetence, but knew (regretfully) that it would be a waste of resources and effort. Unless the man did something extremely taboo he would just have to suffer his presence. UGH.

Still, at least he had countless other unimportant people he could vent his frustrations on, like that guy in that damned canteen in the Death Star. That had been fun. He had used a tray too. He had felt much better afterwards.

The memory didn't help him now though. All the conflicting emotions, the desire to both protect and punish the Skywalker boy, churned within his mind and caused the Force to fluctuate around him. He had accidentally destroyed a MSE the other day, which then "accidentally" somehow got rammed down some stupid ensign's throat, who then magically found his dead body thrown down the garbage chute. Strange occurrences indeed.

The hesitant patter of footsteps approaching behind him had him twisting his shoulders around a little bit to glance behind, wondering if it had been the captain's or the admiral's idea to have Piett approach him, and if they worried he might unleash his obvious anger upon them. Did Piett believe just because he was privy to certain events that he was immune to his wrath?

Vader's fists and teeth clenched in outrage. If that was so, then he was horribly mistaken, and Vader would deal with him quickly. "What, Captain!" he harshly bit out, causing the younger man to visibly jump, and the crewmembers nearby to try to inconspicuously edge as far away as their stations permitted.

"T-the Admiral wondered if there had been any news from the Emperor about what course of action we should take now, concerning the moles and sleeper agents."

Vader reluctantly let his ire ebb away a little. It was obvious the man had not voluntarily chosen to speak with him. The Admiral was obviously a coward. Ah, but Piett had obviously known that Vader would reach that conclusion, making Vader feel a little proud. The man, who so far had shown direct loyalty to Vader before any other, would fit in nicely in his new regime if he continued as he was. Vader would have to reward him at some point. Besides the quick and nearly painless death should he ever need to be killed.

"The Emperor has other matters to focus on at present. It will only be more beneficial should the agents have more time to ensconce themselves amongst the enemy. He was, however, more than interested to learn the identity of the Rebel pilot."

Piett licked his dry lips and glanced around them before lowering his voice. "And he knows of how you're handling the boy?"

"Indeed." Vader almost smirked. Was Piett concerned for him? How amusing. "He knows that I am training the boy to join him, and that Skywalker _for some unknown reason_ refuses to obey anyone but me."

"Ah." Piett nodded knowingly. "I see, my Lord. Very good."

"Yes. Soon I will have the boy join the rest of the ship, instead of keeping him in those rooms and corridors I have all but locked down. More than just a few Stormtroopers and yourself will know of his presence. I'm looking forward to how these little interactions go. Let us pray the boy is smart enough not to cause trouble."

"And…" Piett grimaced. When he spoke again, it was in a hoarse, traumatised voice full disgust. "And the _droid_, my Lord?"

Vader had to bite back un-Sithly giggles. "Artoo will remain under lockdown, unless otherwise escorted by a guard," he managed to say sounding gravely serious. "Should such an arrangement not meet with my specifications…_you_ shall become the droid's main companion again, so I make myself clear, Captain?"

"Yes sir," Piett gulped looking positively sick.

In an infinitely better mood, Vader made his way to his meditation chambers, needing to get a few more hours of rest himself before dealing with the boy again. He needed to contemplate a few things.

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Luke was walking along the familiar sand of Tatooine. And yet, somehow he knew, he was still aboard the _Executer_. But there was the Dune Sea. The twin suns. The smell of nothing but dirt and rock for kilometres around. The only thing missing was the scorching heat.

"Luke."

Turning around Luke caught sight of a strange man, his long hair was half-tied back in some kind of clip or ponytail, his face sombre and yet infinitely kind. The man smiled at him, his lips lifting up into a wonderful sort of smile, mirrored in his blue eyes.

"Excuse me sir, but who are you?"

"That is unimportant young Luke Skywalker," the answered in a slow and calm cadence. There was something about his voice though…

"It's you!" Luke exclaimed! "You're the voice I heard!"

The man smiled again and tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Come, let us sit down."

Luke looked around and suddenly they were standing before the benches of the old racing stadium. He cautiously sat down next to the older gentleman, though conscious to keep a healthy space between them, just in case. "How do you know about this place?"

"I was here once before. Out of all of Tatooine, this is perhaps the one place that had the biggest impact on me, for reasons I cannot divulge."

"I can't imagine anyone choosing to come to Tatooine," Luke snorted.

"And we did not. Not intentionally. But I believe it was the way of the Force."

"You're a Jedi." Luke knew he was. His robes spoke of it, his tranquillity, even his aura. Actually… "Your tunic looks familiar," he frowned.

"My Young Apprentice took it upon my death and used it as a throw over his couch," the man replied with a clear laugh. "Dear boy, preached so much about forsaking attachment, and yet so nearly gave into the Dark Side when I was first slain." A shadow crossed the man's face and he rubbed his abdomen. "So many were affected, and yet refused to admit it."

"You're dead?" Luke whispered.

"I am. I am, I suppose you could say, a type of ghost. I became one with the Force in a way unimaginable, and as a reward, I became immortal. For all extents and purposes of course. I am dead but my energy, my soul if you would, lives on in the Living Force."

"Do…" Luke gulped. "Did you know my father?"

The man sighed and looked away for a moment, staring at the track as if seeing something he couldn't, and Luke felt such a wave of unknown sorrow for the man. "Did I know Anakin Skywalker? The easy answer would be to lie, to let you learn all the truths on your own, but the easy path is seldom the right one. Just as, in a way, it would be easy to tell you everything now. Instead I can only give you hints and titbits of information and pray that you come to the correct conclusions on your own.

"Do I know your father? Yes, I do."

Luke felt all the air rush out of his lungs. He blinked back tears. "What was he like? And my mother, what was she like?" He wiped at his eyes when a few traitorous tears leaked out. "I don't even know her name."

"Padmé."

Luke looked up startled, and for a moment, he forgot to breath. "Padmé," he whispered with such reverence the man looked away, obvious pain etched on his face. "Was she pretty?"

"Your father called her an angel."

An Angel and a Jedi. Luke smiled, wishing he had known them, wishing he knew what they had looked like.

"You look a little like your father, you know. You have his eyes. Except…" the man smirked and trailed away in a soft chuckle.

"Except what," Luke frowned.

"Except you have your mother's height."

Luke battled between feeling annoyed and exuberantly joyous. Perhaps it wasn't so bad, being so small, if he had inherited it from his mother. From Padmé. "Padmé Skywalker," he whispered again.

"Your father, before he became a Jedi, used to go by the name Ani."

"Ani Skywalker?" Luke snorted. "That sounds like a girl's name."

"Perhaps," the man laughed. "But your mother still tended to call him that until…the end."

"What happened?" Luke whispered. "How did she die?"

"She gave up the will to live," the man quietly answered. "You cannot blame her for that Luke," he spoke urgently. "She loved you very much. But you have to understand that he heart was broken. Anakin was…gone. All that remained was Vader."

Luke clenched his fists and teeth in anger. "I'll kill him," he snarled.

"No, Luke!" the man cautioned. "You must not go to him in anger! The Force has been trying to tell you that, and you must listen! Vader cannot be destroyed in anger. If you do, if you allow yourself to touch that evil, you will become evil yourself. You must promise me!"

"He killed my parents! He killed Ben! He nearly killed Leia!"

An emotion flickered across the man's face then, quickly hidden, but it caused puzzlement in Luke. "If you go for vengeance then you will fall. The Darkness cannot continue to reign undaunted and unchallenged. You have started the fight for the Light. You must continue this fight. Let the cataclysm of Death fall, young Skywalker."

Luke frowned and shook his head, not in denial, but because those words resonated within. The echoes of words he could not quite remember thrummed through him.

"The tides of Darkness and Despair are wavering Luke!" the man continued to urgently say, but the voice sounded like it came from farther away, as if they were stuck in a wind tunnel and were being pulled farther and farther apart. "Do not let them consume you too!" And then it was a mere whisper as Luke's eyes snapped open. "He _is_ the Chosen One."

Luke panted great heaving breaths as he struggled to regain his equilibrium, his clothes drenched with sweat to his form, every muscle in his body aching as if he had just run a marathon. He tried to remember what he had seen, what he had experienced, what he had heard. He couldn't though. It was like it was slowly drifting away down a sieve until he could remember no more.

Only a pair of blue eyes and the whispered words of "Chosen One" remained. What was the Chosen One? _Who_ was the Chosen One? And why did Luke have the feeling like he was meant to find this person?

0000000000

After showering and changing into clean clothes Luke checked the ship's chrono and realised that it was just barely morning. He must have meditated all night. Though he felt out of breath and ached, he felt well-rested, as if he had slept the entire time. And even his aches were disappearing, and his breath returned by the time he was out of the refresher.

Taking the opportunity of not having the Beast breathing down his neck, Luke cleared a space in the common area using the Force, rather proud that the large furniture only wobbled slightly as he moved it to the edge of the room. He then did the warm-up exercises Vader had taught him, drawing upon the Force to give him more endurance and strength, before moving to further stretching and exercises.

Knowing that Vader would probably approve of his unsolicited actions only slowed him down for a minute, the strange high he still had from his meditation still coursed through him, making him eager to learn a little more from the Force. After all, he would need the Force to defeat Vader, so he might as well learn as much of the Light Side before the monster tried poisoning him with the Dark. Blasted jerk.

As if the thought of the monster had been a summons, Darth Vader suddenly strode into the room, though he quickly came to a standstill in obvious shock. Luke stared up at him from his position on the floor, levitating a chair with one hand and holding himself up with the other, in a sort of push up.

"Hey my Lord Master Vader!" Luke exclaimed with a smile, hoping to unnerve the beastly monstrous jerk. "I was thinking of trying another one-handed arm stand next. What do you say?"

"What are you doing up already?" Vader intoned. "I thought children liked to sleep in?"

"Hey!" Luke exclaimed again, though this time affronted, and let the chair crash back to the floor as he got up. "I'm not a kid, I'm twenty years old! That means I'm even no longer a teenager!"

"Yet you still look like one. I've seen Ewoks taller than you."

"What's an Ewok? Never mind! I'll have you know, I get my height from my mother!" he huffed.

"_Who told you that_!" Vader yelled striding dangerously towards him.

Stumbling back a little Luke shook his head. "I-I don't know! Maybe Aunt Beru mentioned it once!" Where had he heard that? He knew it to be true, but for some reason he forgot where he had learned that information, though he could have sworn he hadn't known it yesterday.

"You're lying," Vader snarled, and before Luke could blink, the hilt of Vader's ignited red lightsabre was in his gloved palm and his other roughly pushed Luke against the wall and held him there.

Luke, trying not to let the fear overpower him, clawed desperately at the hand pushing into his chest that was beginning to severely hamper his breathing capabilities. And after yesterday, he really disliked the sensation of not being able to breath, and he felt his panic spike. "No, please, I'm not! I don't know, I just _do_!"

"Who have you been talking to!"

"No one!"

"Tell me _the truth_!"

And that was it. He felt the tug against him, felt the order worming its way into him, and suddenly he remembered his vision. He remembered the kind and gentle man who felt such pain, who knew his mother, who knew his father. He remembered the devastating loss at the reminder of what _this monster had stolen_!

Fiery blue eyes snapped with pain and anger. "_He_ did! Some former Jedi who knew her! Who knew my father! My father that you murdered! And because of that Padmé Skywalker died of a broken heart!"

Vader, inexplicably, jerk his head as if he had been slapped. He then slowly brought his mask around and leaned closer to Luke. He deactivated his sabre but the menace was still there. "_No_," the Dark Lord slowly and quietly hissed mere inches from his face. "No, no, no."

Luke stared into Vader's red Death eyes, almost sure he could peer past them into the monster's real eyes at such close distance, frozen in place by the multitude of emotions in the beast's voice. "Ben told me," he nearly snarled. "He told me you killed him. I didn't need anyone else to tell me how you destroyed my father. _You murdered him_!" he shrieked.

"_No_!" Vader quietly exclaimed. He shoved Luke to the side, where he fell to the ground and stared up at the imposing creature before him. "No…" Vader murmured as if to himself. "No."

"Stop repeating yourself! You killed him!"

"NO! Obi-Wan lied to you Luke Skywalker!" Vader suddenly exclaimed, shutting Luke up at the sudden words and ferocity he somehow knew was not directed at him, but at Vader's dead old master. The words were much, much quieter, and far more resolute than any others ever uttered by the Dark Lord. "Obi-Wan lied…

"_I_ am your father."

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**AN**: Was this soon enough? But do you hate me now? Just seemed like a _really_ good place to end it. =P If you don't hate me now, you will soon, because I don't know exactly when I'll be able to next update. Oops! Oh well. Tehe. And kudos to anyone who caught the reference I made in this chapter.

In case you forgot, Huttese:

_Mee jewz ku_ – '_Goodbye_'


	11. And Lies Become Truths

**XI**

Luke stared in horror. The words rang through his head worse than any of the others had.

_**I**__ am your father_.

"No…no…" Luke mumbled shaking his head back and forth. A part of him knew he was starting to sound like the thing before him but he didn't really care. "That's not true," he whispered. "That's impossible!"

"Search your feelings. You know it to be true," Vader stated.

He didn't want to. He wanted to continue hating this Monster before him. He wanted to have his revenge for the death of his father. Of his mother. Of Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen and Ben and so many others! He didn't want the Force to tell him something to contradict everything he knew. He didn't want to search his feelings! He didn't want to know!

But he did. And he _did_ know. Somehow, someway, he knew the words spoken by the bane of his existence to be the utter truth. There were so many signs, so many clues, but Luke had naively ignored them all. How many times had the monster grown angry at the mention of his father, or had spoken in double-entendres, especially in response to such mentioning. Hadn't he recently already realised this?

And the Jedi…the Jedi from his dreams or whatever they were…it all made sense now. His mother had given up the will to live because her husband, her beloved Ani, and fallen to the Dark Side. More machine than man. Vader destroyed Anakin. He betrayed and murdered him. Those were old Ben's words. It would be so easy to believe the old Jedi, take his words at face value, and count Vader's words as false…except…

Luke felt the truth. There was a connection between them. He knew it. Beyond the curse of obedience, there was something else, something intangible but present. He could feel it through the Force. He could feel the truth behind Vader's words. That _Monster_ truly _was_ his father.

He wanted to cry, scream, yell. He wanted to shout "no" into the heavens…except he couldn't. All he could do was feel his heart quietly break in the silence of his soul.

He wanted desperately to look around for an escape route, for any way to run away from this knowledge, but he knew there was none. He could run to his room, but that reeked of teenage angst and he couldn't bring himself to do that, not with this…thing. Besides, the Dark Lord would probably follow him, or order him to stand still before he could move more than a few feet.

Still, he scrambled up, needing to get out of such a vulnerable position as sprawled on the floor at the Monster's feet. For he was still The Monster. Father or not, he had killed Ben, he had hurt Leia and countless others…

"Luke," Vader began to intone, and the familiarity of his name on that Monster's tongue broke the fragile hold Luke had over his emotions. And he found he could yell after all.

"_**NO**_!" he screamed, uncaring of the tears that spilled down his cheeks as suddenly everything within him was released. "NO I _HATE_ YOU!" Heart pounding, breath coming in shallow gasps, Luke felt the room spin around him. "I hate you!" he sobbed as blackness overtook him.

Unbeknownst to him, Vader caught him before he could fall, a forgotten emotion burning through his cyborg chest.

0000000000

Luke's eyes slowly fluttered open, pupils slowly contracting from the bright light shining above him, though he was barely aware of it.

_Ben, why? Why didn't you tell me…_

Was it possible to die from a broken heart? His mother had, hadn't she? He understand that now. Yes. Darth Vader had killed Anakin Skywalker. And the Monster was walking around in his old body. Poor Father…poor Dad. It was a shame. He bet his parents looked real good together. Like Leia and Han. Like Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen. Like complimentary opposites.

Padmé had been small. Ani was tall though. Bet she had fit perfectly in his arms.

Luke contemplated everything the dead Jedi, both of them actually, had told him. From a certain point of view, it was all true, which Luke guessed was the point. Had to keep little Lukey in the dark so he didn't become Dark. Can't have him becoming like his father. Consumed. Destroyed. Dead.

Leia would hate him now. The Rebellion wouldn't accept him. He was all alone. All alone among an army of the enemy…his father's army. His father's murderer's army. Just all alone.

All…alone…

_Ben…why?_

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Vader watched in (a worried) silence as his son just laid on the medical table, the machines connected to him showing a slow and steady heartbeat, breathing almost as regulated as his own.

Why wasn't he in hysterics again? Instead, the boy was nearly comatose, only occasionally blinking into the light as he stared up at the ceiling of the medical bay. It was unnerving to say the least.

"I want to be kept aware of his condition. If there is even the slightest change, contact me immediately, understood?"

"Yes Lord Vader," the medical droid replied before continuing with its work.

Perhaps he should bring Captain Piett down to keep an eye on the boy. His son.

Did it count as a prodigal son if he had not come willingly?

Vader had much to think about.

"My Lord? The Emperor would like a word with you?" one of the crew announced after approaching the Dark Lord and saluting. "He says it's urgent."

It's always urgent with Palpatine, isn't it? No doubt he felt the wave of the Force, created by a distraught Luke, who now lay awake but detached. Kriffing joy. Stars, what he wouldn't do to have Obi-Wan there to yell at him for his language, because at least then he had someone else to turn to with these matters.

But that was the problem wasn't it? He hadn't been able to turn to his mentor. The only person he had ever been able to pour his emotions to was the man currently calling him. He owed the Emperor so much, and yet he couldn't wait to kill him and take his place, finally bringing true peace to the galaxy. He needed his son for that, too, and yet the boy hated him.

His son. _His_. Anakin may have sired the boy but Vader was the one in his life now, and even if the boy hated him, he still had to obey him. Vader would continue his training, would get the boy to pledge his loyalty to the Emperor, until they were strong enough to knock his Master down. The boy will be able to use his hatred and anger in the Dark Side, and perhaps eventually the boy will come to understand why Vader had to do what he did, and together they could rule undisputed.

The first thing to go will be the damned Death Star too. As if the first one hadn't been bad enough.

Striding through the doors to the nearest communications node he entered into a kneel just as the projection of his Master appeared. He did not look pleased.

"Ah, Lord Vader," the Emperor slowly intoned. "I've sensed something very peculiar through the Force…"

Vader swallowed. He had to spin this just right or he (or even others) might be ordered to dispose of the boy. "My Master. There has indeed been an altercation between the Rebel and myself."

"And what, pray tell, was the manner of the altercation?"

"The knowledge that it was I who sired him, Master," Vader murmured.

"Perhaps you can tell me, Lord Vader, why you found it necessary to divulge such information? After all, Anakin Skywalker is dead, is he not?"

Thin ice. That's what Vader felt like he was treading upon. "Anakin Skywalker is dead, my Master, but by claiming his son as my own…it could perhaps be another lure to the Dark Side for the boy. He is starved for attention. He longs for family, I can feel it."

"And you, Lord Vader? Do you long for this family also?"

The ice was cracking. "Any family I might have had I killed long ago, Master. You are all that remain."

A malicious smile. A cold smile. The ice stopped cracking, just for the moment, but it was all Vader needed. It gave him the opening he needed to remind Palpatine of his own self.

"I am hardly the doting father figure," Vader said with just the hint of a sneer in his voice. "The boy fears me. And yet he will doubtless latch onto me now that he knows the truth. He will seek my unattainable approval. Even as he continues to hate me. When I am unable to provide it, he will latch on to the next mentor that he meets. You, my Master." Carrot dangled.

Palpatine's eyes lit up beneath his hood. "You intend for me to step in the role as the boy's father?" The slight sneer in the words was by no means faked.

"Much as you were for another foolish young Skywalker," Vader replied putting just enough of the old familiarity in his statement. Too much would be insolence, as they were well past that stage, and all its lies. "Together we could mould Skywalker into your perfect agent. So utterly devoted to you, that he would take his own blade before ever thinking of betraying his Master, and all that you stand for."

"Hmmm. What you speak has potential Lord Vader."

"Thank you my Master."

"However, it is quite dangerous as well."

"The only danger is to the boy. He will turn or he will die. By my hands."

Palpatine's smile was anything but nice. "Excellent. See that you do so Lord Vader, for I would hate to see the consequences should you fail. Too many Sith lost to the Jedi…but then, it's been a family business, hasn't it? Don't let _your son_ be the next Jedi."

"My son will be a Sith, or he will join his mother where he belongs."

With a last cackling chuckle, the Emperor disappeared, and it was all Vader could do not to sick up inside his helmet, his last words like a thousand lightsabres to his gut and chest, painful to have to speak yet necessary. But to speak of his Angel so cruelly…

She wasn't his Angel anymore though…he had to remember that. There was a difference between saving his son from an untimely death and admitting more of his past than necessary. It was bad enough with the boy's words from earlier.

_Padmé Skywalker…_

Very few had ever called her by that name…very few had known…

It was quite a while before Vader had the strength to stand again, and when he did he had to struggle with what to do, as he found his thoughts divided. Did he go to Luke or to the bridge? What course of action should he take, which would be better for the boy in the long run, and why did the boy's mental health matter? Palpatine was hardly sane after all…

Besides, in his current state, the boy was liable to throw a bedpan at him or something. Why did they even still _have_ those things?

0000000000

Piett shifted anxiously as he watched Vader pacing furiously back and forth…back and forth…back and forth… He was getting slightly dizzy watching him truth be told.

He had been summoned close to ten minutes ago, though Vader had not once acknowledged him, and instead kept his pacing in the confined area behind the table in one of the conference rooms. They were all alone and the fact that it had been he that was the one summoned meant one thing: Luke Skywalker.

Whatever reason he was here, it undoubtedly had to do with the Rebel boy, who was by now becoming less and less of a secret. Usually Vader ordered all but a few Stormtroopers away when he had Luke walk the halls, mainly just those guarding the boys' room, but last he'd heard of the boy he was unconscious on a stretcher to be seen by anyone.

He had apparently been taken to the medical bay again, though from what he had gleaned from the random Stormtroopers and subordinates, there were no physical injuries on him other than what he had already seen on him. A few bruises and bumps, nothing deserving of a trip to the med bay, unless there was something internal he was unable to see. He hoped Vader hadn't knocked the poor boy around too much. Though a Rebel, Piett found himself oddly taken with the boy, and it was a camaraderie he would be sorry to see the end of.

Vader made a noise oddly like a huff, jolting Piett back to the present, and wondering if the Sith Lord would ever get on with it. He wondered if the man would object to his checking on Luke. After everything, he would hate to get killed because he had decided to check on a friend in sick bay, especially since Luke really was his only one. If you could call it that. The boy was a prisoner after all. An enemy. And yet he was still the closest person Piett felt to having a, what was the phrase, _bosom buddy_.

He wondered if he needed a shrink.

"He's my son."

Piett nodded. "Yes si—what did you say?" he choked out before he could stop himself. Had he heard correctly? Maybe he had said "his mission." Maybe the point of this meeting was Luke's Rebel mission? That would make sense, certainly, in fact Piett was sure that was what Vader had sai—

"The boy is my son."

Hm. Nope. Definitely said the first thing.

"Sir, are you quite sure?" Piett hesitantly offered. "I mean, he could…just be…similar…"

"I understand it is a hard concept to wrap your mind around, Captain, but do not doubt my word," Vader warned, with far less ire than Piett would have expected. Actually, the Dark Lord seemed rather…agitated.

"Of course not, my Lord. Forgive me, sir. I only mean…it is quite extraordinary and rather, if you don't mind my saying, serendipitous."

"It is indeed," Vader agreed. "The boy, however, did not take the news so well. Which is why I would like you to keep an eye on him. He is in the med bay now. He is awake but not responsive. I want you to stay with him, Captain Piett, until such a time that he moves back into his rooms. May you take better care of him than his droid."

Swallowing past the terror in his throat that warning caused, Piett smartly saluted and strode out the doors, wondering how in the galaxy he got into this position. See the sights, they said. Protect your Empire, they said. Command awesome ships bigger than some planets, they said. Not once did they ever say, come babysit the son of a Dark Lord who will most likely Choke you if you damage one single strand of hair on the child's head.

Then again, that wasn't a very good enlistment slogan, which was probably why it was left off along with "your life expectancy may diminish the longer you are in contact with a Sith Lord." So far so good though. At least he wasn't dead yet.

Of course, there's always tomorrow.

0000000000

"Luke. Luke? Luke. Luke. LUKE. Luuuuuke. Lllllluuukkke…Skywalker. Skywalker? Sky—"

"If I talk to you, will you shut up?"

Piett smiled as Luke groaned. "Well, I'll stop saying your name at least," the captain laughed. "Glad you're not as unresponsive as Lord Vader said."

Luke immediately frowned, feeling any of the good mood the captain might have given him shrivel up and die, replaced by an all-encompassing bleakness. He saw the captain's visage change from friendly to worried, and while he appreciated Piett's concern, he still did not want it. Or any reminder that Vader existed.

"Are you okay Luke?"

"Just wonderful," Luke snarled.

"He didn't…_hurt_ you, did he?" Piett quietly queried, obviously checking him over for any fresh marks from a battering.

"Oh, so now you care?" Luke sniped. "When I was just some Rebel scum you didn't care how he treated me, but now that I'm…that he's…now that's different you're suddenly worried if he smacks me around a little?"

Piett frowned and leaned back in his chair by Luke's medical bed. His expression shuttered a little, and yet Luke could still easily read the man's hurt, or maybe he just felt it. Great time for the Force to be a little more giving in its power, Luke couldn't help but think sarcastically, mentally rolling his eyes.

"He might be your father but he is still my superior. Concern for his son is something, but should I show concern to a captured Rebel, you can bet my place would be filled in a microsecond flat."

"Don't call him that," Luke snapped. "My father was Anakin Skywalker, a great Jedi who would have hated Lord Vader and everything he stands for." He growled when he realised he still had to give the Monster a title, and poured all of his anger and hatred into the word, feeling a cold creeping inside him like thousands of little ice shards stabbing into his veins and heart. "I hate him too."

"He'd have less of a reason to kill you now though, and it's obvious now why he was so tolerant of you…and why he is the only one you are compelled to obey," Piett added in a low whisper.

"He killed Ben, he killed _my mother_," Luke moaned, feeling the tears coming back to his eyes and angrily scrubbing them away. "What's to stop him from killing me? And if he doesn't, the Emperor will surely do it. And he'll just _watch_!"

"I'm sure I have told you before. He has killed men for less than what you've put him through. He obviously knew who you were from the start—"

"And he cut of my hand, nearly killed me, and tortures me every chance he gets!" Luke roughly ran his hands over his face and through his hair, wanting to pace or run or do _something_ but unable to. He was barely able to sit up against the raised headrest feeling as he was. "That's not what fathers do!"

"I do not believe there has ever been a Sith Lord father before."

"Because there aren't suppose to be! They're all monsters!" Luke felt ashamed as he felt the sobs catch in his chest, tears leaking hot tears he couldn't stop, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die. It just wasn't fair. None of it.

"I believe he _does_ care about you, in his own way, as all fathers do," Piett tried.

"He can go to whichever hell of his choosing," Luke mumbled from where he had his arm draped over his face to hide the tears. "I hate him and I'll always hate him."

"Luke, you have to be strong. He's your father, if you accept him and what he asks of you, you could finally be together."

"And what? Rule as father and son?" Luke sneered bringing his arm down to glare at the older man next to his bed. "I'd rather die a thousand deaths than have anything to do with that…that…" He trailed off in irritation, not sure if the connection would make him call him "Lord" or "Master" and not wanting to verbalise that at the moment. "I've already lost my friends because of what he told me, I'm not going to kill them too."

"How have you lost your friends?" Piett asked with a frown. "There's no way they could know."

"No, but the very moment they do, do you honestly think they'll want anything to do with me?" Grief and resignation settled on his face as he leaned back on the bed. "Even if I somehow managed to escape, the Alliance would never accept me now, not when I could be a liability. As much as I wish to deny it, there's something…connecting Lord Vader and me…I knew it was there even before he told me the truth." Luke let out a heavy sigh. He was officially space dust.

"Luke, I'm sure you're friends will accept you no matter what," Piett said with an odd look on his face when Luke glanced over at him. Probably at having to reassure his Lord's Jedi wannabe son that his Rebel Alliance friends would still like him. Like he was some damned teenager with a pimple or a lame landspeeder.

"Somehow I think this might be the breaking point," Luke sighed.

"You know," Piett began finally leaning back in his chair as he crossed his legs and rested his elbows on the armrests, fingertips coming together as he stared over him, his brows slightly lifted. "Have you thought about the benefits this relationship could bring to your friends?"

"Benefits?" Luke scoffed. "Death and torture doesn't seem like benefits."

"No, but life is. Think about it Luke, if you joined your father, you could potentially grant your friends sanctuary as long as you convinced them to give up fighting. Become upstanding members of the Empire."

"No offense to you personally, but I think your precious Empire is a giant steaming pile of—"

"Let's not say anything we're going to regret later," Piett broke in with a warning look.

Luke sneered. "All you Imps are alike. No wonder Artoo hates you."

Piett's eye twitched at the mention of the droid but his frown did not move a centimetre. "I'm only looking out for you Luke. Lord Vader may be your father but that does not mean you can around badmouthing the Galactic Empire. In fact, it is even more important for you to keep a civil tongue in your mouth in regards to it. Much more is riding on your shoulders now."

"You sound like Lord Vader," Luke nearly spat in disgust. "Just go away," he grumbled turning over on the bed so his back faced the other man.

"I'm afraid I can't, on orders from your father."

Luke squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to ignore the man. The Monster wasn't his father. And he never would be.

0000000000

Luke was on Tatooine again. He figured he must have fallen into sleep-meditation again whilst ignoring Piett. He looked around for that Jedi ghost but he was all alone. There were no settlements in sight, no other living or non-living soul, just the quiet of the desert.

"Hello?" Luke called out. "Weird ghost guy? Hellooooo?"

There was no sound except his own echoing voice, and if it weren't for the fact that he didn't think anything could bother him after that recent revelation, he might have been scared. As it was, he just wanted whatever this vision-quest thing was supposed to be to end already. None of them had helped him so far. He was just so tired of it all.

Suddenly the wind kicked up, causing Luke to bring his arms up to try to prevent the sand from blowing into his eyes, only to feel as if the ground beneath him was moving and that if it didn't stop he might lose whatever was in his stomach. When was the last time he had eaten? He supposed the med bay was keeping him hydrated and on nutrients.

Cautiously lowering his arms, he realised he was no longer where he had started out, and in fact easily recognised where he was now. Tears sprung to his eyes at the familiar sight of his once home. Running towards it he couldn't stop the tears from leaking down his face.

"Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen! Please!"

Yet no matter how fast he ran his home came no closer. With another wave of the blistering sand, the scenery changed again, this time causing Luke's cries to catch in his throat as he realised where he was. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

The sun had set by now, and the inhabitants were lounging around fires and watching their massiffs fighting over food, uncaring of the human that stood among them. Luke stared in horror at them, expecting them to attack at any moment, but instead they acted as if they couldn't see him. Only after he realised that did his breathing calm down.

Feeling something almost like a tug at his sternum to go a certain way, Luke followed what he assumed was the Force, allowing it to guide him to wherever it wanted him. The sooner he got this over the sooner he could wake up. And get away from these Sand People.

Slipping inside a tent, Luke squinted his eyes at the darkness, only to have a strangled gasp leave his throat. There was a woman in here! Rushing over he tried to help her, only to realise he was nothing more than a spectre here, a witness to this woman's suffering. She was a prisoner, obviously, a human captive. Through the Force Luke could tell she did not have long to live. She was holding on only by a thread, as if she were waiting for something, waiting before she would allow herself to slip into sweet oblivion.

Suddenly there was another person there, a boy roughly around his age, releasing the straps holding her up and cradling her in his arms. "Mom," he kept repeating, and the sight nearly broke Luke's heart, unable to comprehend having someone he loved like that tortured by the Tusken Raiders.

The woman said something, but it was so soft Luke didn't hear it, until she repeated it. It was perhaps the one name that Luke had never expected, and he stood frozen in shock, unable to tear his eyes away from the young man who would one day become…so many things.

"Ani…is it you?"

"I'm here, Mom. You're safe."

Luke gaped at the voice coming from the man who could only be his father. The Force was showing him something, something he knew was real, had once happened. Which meant that woman…was his grandmother.

"Stars, no," Luke whispered.

"Ani?" The woman smiled, reaching up a weak hand to touch her boy's cheek, a hand the boy placed a soft kiss on. "Oh you look so handsome. My son. Oh my grown up son. I'm so proud of you Ani."

"I missed you," Anakin whispered, the tears evident in his voice, the Force swirling around him in waves.

"Now I am complete," the woman stated, but her voice was getting weaker, getting harder to speak. "…I love…"

"Stay with me Mom," Anakin urged, trying to speak past his tears he refused to let fall, trying to blink them away. "Everything—"

"I lo-I love…" But the woman never got to finish as she let out her last breath in a croaking exhale. Luke dropped to his knees when her head fell back, not needing the Force or his father's anguish to let him know she was gone, her life snuffed out by those outside.

He thought Anakin's agony would tear him to pieces, the turmoil within the young man churning around and around, until with a gasp Luke felt something he was becoming intimately familiar. The Dark Side.

"Father, no!" he tried to yell to the man but it was too late, and Luke watched in horror as Anakin, no, the man who would be Vader murdered every single Raider in the camp. Man, woman, and child. "NOOOO!"

Luke sat up in a rush, the blinding white lights from overhead disorientating him momentarily, until he remembered where he was. On the _Executor_. In med bay. After Vader told him…

Hurriedly leaning over the side of the medical bed, Luke emptied everything out of his stomach, dry heaving long after there was nothing left but bile. A gentle hand settled on his back but he shook it off, wanting nothing to do with anyone onboard this ship, wanting nothing to do with anyone period. He could still feel the taint of the Dark Side from his vision, suffocating him, its cloying presence like oil. He needed out of here. _Now_.

"Luke, sit down," Piett said, trying to push him back on the bed when he tried to sit up, struggling against him.

"I have to get out. _I have to get out_!" Luke gasped, fighting like a man possessed, knowing if he stayed here much longer something infinitely worse than what he just witnessed would happen. He would not become like that. He could not allow it!

_Luke…_

Luke froze, the Jedi ghost's voice breaking into his thoughts, the cautionary tone doing what Piett could not. He remembered hearing that man's voice now, echoing his own last scream from the vision, though at the same time it wasn't him. The ghost wasn't with him in the vision, his presence was diluted somehow, as if…as if the ghost's words were from that time as well.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he spat, tears rushing to his eyes once more, the sorrow overtaking him. "Why did you show me that? What do you all want from me!" he screamed.

_Chosen One…_ the whispered words echoed as if from a great distance. More voices followed, most he didn't recognise, though he was sure he had heard Ben's in there somewhere. All of them saying the same thing. _Chosen One…Chosen One…Chosen One…_

With another yell Luke clasped his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the tide of voices, the equipment in the room shaking from his unguided use of the Force.

"Luke! Luke, calm down!" Piett's voice called to him. With great effort he managed to do that, the voices ending in soft murmurs, all of his energy spent. He collapsed in Piett's arms, the stunned captain not sure what the hell just happened, or how he was going to tell the Dark Lord.

0000000000

**In Space…**

Leia winced as the headache continued to pulse through her, something that almost sounded like voices clashing in her head, before it slowly started to ebb away. She didn't know what that was, nor did she care to experience it again to find out, the only feeling left over from it that of desperation. Not all of it her own.

Luke. He was in pain. Not the physical kind, but the kind that was worse than any torture, for it hurt your very soul. She had experienced that kind of pain before, when she watched her planet be destroyed, and it was starting to eat away at her again the longer Luke was missing. No. Not missing. With _Vader_.

"You all right Princess?" Han flashed her a quick look over his shoulder as he piloted the _Millennium Falcon_, trying to keep the false bravado in place, but she could tell he was genuinely worried. She could just sense it.

"I will be as soon as you learn to fly this thing," she snapped back with a grumble, holding on to the old ship as it bucked and weaved, glad she never got a case of space sickness. The same could not be said of Threepio. The droid was currently powered down to avoid short circuiting in anxiety. Whoever made him was either a genius for being able to instil such emotion in him, or an idiot for the same reason, she hadn't quite decided yet.

"Hey now," Han said, turning around to point a finger at her, before quickly having to turn back to avoid getting hit by space debris. "It's not my fault the kid got abducted by the baddies. I'm just flying where you're telling me to, O Worshipfulness One. _You're_ the one who's taken us through an old battle sight."

Leia grimaced as she caught sight of some of the wreckage from both this war and the previous one. She wouldn't have chosen to come this way herself, but something else was guiding her, and she knew she had better listen to it or else.

"What's the latest intelligence of Vader's position?" she asked instead of commenting.

Chewie roared something which Han translated. "Seems the old boy dropped out of hyperdrive a few parsecs away. If we had gone the way _I_ suggested we would have been there already," he added in that smarmy voice of his. The voice that made Leia unsure if she wanted to hit him or…well, anyway.

"Look, I don't know why, but we're supposed to have come this way," she griped back in a measured tone.

"Don't be getting all hokey pokey with me, Princess. I don't go in for all that mumbo jumbo," Han warned. "The kid better not be rubbing off on you. The old man was bad enough."

"Just go where I tell you do and stop complaining," Leia snapped. "How trusted is that intel?"

"Trust me, the guy I got it from is very reliable, we go way back," Han replied with an easy smirk.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she muttered earning a dark look from him. "Head to those coordinates then. Hopefully we can pick up the trail from there. I'm surprised this bucket of bolts has got us there this fast," she commented in another mumble as she left the cockpit.

Han's "Hey!" followed her out.

Massaging her temples, Leia sat down at the dejarik table, face in hands now as she rested her elbows on the tabletop. This slouched position wasn't fit for a princess, but it was fit for a grieving friend, and that was what she was. First and foremost, she decided. She loved Luke too much to do anything else. It took his disappearance to realise this, but there it was, if only she knew what to do with it.

Did she love him like _that_? No, of course not, if she did she wouldn't be thinking about…_someone else_ who shall remain nameless in her mind because she wasn't quite ready to open _that_ discussion up yet. But there was something between them, something she couldn't deny, something connecting them in some way…

Stars, how she missed him. She missed his smile, missed his laugh, missed the way his eyes would light up whenever he got excited. There was so much light inside him. She worried what might happen to him if he was within Vader's darkness much longer. Her only consolation was that she could tell he was still alive. Somehow.

Folding her arms on the table, she rested her chin on them, her sight growing blurry with tears. She had lost so many people to the Empire. Her parents. Her birth mother. Her people and planet. Now she had all but lost Luke as well! She didn't know how much more she could take before she broke. She wasn't strong enough for this!

"Then you're going to have to be, but I have a feeling you're stronger than you think."

Spinning around in her seat, Leia had her gun out and pointing before she even realised she had moved, her eyes trained on the speaker before her. Except…somehow she didn't think her gun would be of any use.

"My, a bit feisty aren't you?" the man chuckled.

"Who are you?" she almost growled, slowly rising from her seat and taking a step forward, never lowering her pistol though it was quite obvious this man wouldn't be hurt by it. If he even existed and wasn't an imagining of her delirious mind. After all, see-through blue people didn't exist in the normal world, or so she thought.

"I am an old friend of your parents'. I'm dead, by the way, so you can lower your gun. All you'll manage to do is scorch your bulkhead or something."

Leia's eyes took in more of the man's appearance, her gun slowly lowering, though she did not put it away. "Are you a Jedi?"

The man looked down at his robes with a smile and a laugh. "I was once, yes. Before a Sith killed me. My young Apprentice finished him off while I was incapacitated." He fingered his middle with another twist of his lips. "Thank the Force your spirit is intact and does not look like your physical body when you die. I'd hate to have a hole in me for the rest of my Force afterlife."

"So, you're a ghost?" Leia snorted. "I thought those were old wives' tales."

"I must say, you're taking this better than I expected. Gun not included."

"I'm a little bit preoccupied with other matters at the moment."

"Ah yes. About that…I have the coordinates you'll need to reach Luke in time. My young Apprentice would probably scold me for giving too much away so soon, but he's rather busy with another friend of ours, and I need to get this moving. So much needs to happen before too long. You'd find your way eventually, of course, but this will get you there much sooner. Tell Luke I said hello, would you?"

Leia blinked as the ghost's image started disappearing. "Wait! What's your name!"

The man smiled. "Just a friend." And then he was gone.

With a jerk, Leia's head popped up off her arms, glancing around before spinning in her seat at the dejarik table to the spot behind her. It was completely empty. She must have fallen asleep…she had a new set of coordinates in mind though, having no idea where they came from, except from some weird dream…

She'd better tell Han about them. She had a ship to catch up to.

Glancing down at the table she frowned. _Eeww…drool_.

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**AN:** (slowly slinks into room) Uh…hey guys…heh.

Before you hate me for the long time before updating, do know that I almost wrote this into another cliffhanger, but didn't. I instead added other stuff and pushed the cliffhanger scene back a chapter where it hopefully won't be a cliffhanger at all.

I would like to submit one excuse for my delayed update. I have this story on a separate USB thing and I lost it for a while (admittedly for a while I didn't know it was lost because I was avoiding this chapter after my muse left me for another writer, that harlot) with the chapter already mostly written. I found it recently though and the first free time I got I popped it into my computer and finished it up. So here ya go.

No real Luke/Vader moments in this chapter, beside Lukey's initial freak-out, but there will be some in the next chapter. Promise. As for Leia and Co., since I know some of you have some fears about her popping in and messing shit up, have no worries. She has her own part to play but it will not affect Father-Son time. They get to go play ball and everything…okay not really, more like more angst, if I know Luke any.

And hey this is a really long Author's Note. There was other stuff I wanted to clear up but I've forgotten what it is. As always, not sure the next time I'll update, but I'll try to get the next chapter up cause it holds a scene (or at least it should) that I have been waiting for, for some time, so yeah. Shits gonna get real, real soon, boiiii.

Yeah I really just shouldn't try sounding like that.

(this is me trying to distract you from how long it's been since I last updated)


	12. To Give Up Or Not To Give Up

**XII**

**Somewhere...**

"Well that went better than expected."

"Old age does that. So does loneliness."

"Something I'm sure you're an expert at."

"Just what is _that_ supposed to mean? I _thought_ we hashed these problems out already."

"Would you two stop it? We're nowhere near finished."

"Yes, you are right, forgive us. There are more important things than our bickering."

"I don't know...I have a lot of pent up bicker to get out."

"Apparently age does not necessitate maturity."

"You're one to talk! You were practically a rebellious teenager yourself! I'll never know how you ever became a—"

"_Boys_! Now is seriously _not the time_!"

"Ahem. Sorry."

"Yes, sorry."

"Thank you. Now, you two know what to do next, correct?"

"Yes, we're nearly all set."

"Finally after years of waiting the time is nearing."

"I only hope they are not too broken by the time it is finished."

"We will be watching over them, do not fear."

"I only wish I could do more..."

"Without you, this would never have been possible, remember that."

"I'll try...sorry. I mean I'll do."

"Quite right."

"We shall all do."

"May the Force be with us all..."

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**Onboard the **_**Executor**_**...**

"He fainted again." Darth Vader sighed after repeating the captain's report. "Wonderful. He faints more than a damsel in distress."

Piett looked like he was trying not to crack a smile at the quip, the imagery involved probably too much for the man who had so recently suffered a nervous breakdown, no matter how close he had gotten with his son.

"No matter," Vader dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps taking a nap will soothe the boy's irritableness." And he in no way felt guilty. Not at all. So what if the boy couldn't handle the truth. So what if the mere idea of being related to him apparently made him physically ill. Didn't matter. Vader didn't feel guilty at all. Not one iota. Nope. Never. Uh-uh. Absotively posilutely not.

It was just indigestion that was burning a hole in his gut. Even though he hadn't eaten in...well, that wasn't important. Not like he had anyone griping at him to eat anymore anyways. Though speaking of that...

"Has he eaten anything recently? Medical nutrients in no way take the place of an actual meal."

Dear Maker, he was starting to sound like Obi-Wan after a particularly trying mission. He grimaced behind his mask. He wasn't going to turn into some doting mother just because the truth was out now. He wasn't.

"I'm afraid not my Lord," Piett answered obviously unaware of his discomfiture. "He refused any offer of food. After waking up from what I can only assume was a nightmare he was quite distraught and after losing consciousness once more I came to report to you immediately."

"I see," Vader darkly commented. "I will take care of it."

Striding out of the room he ignored the barely repressed flinch from the captain and stalked to the med bay holding his son. Luke would need his strength for his training, something Vader would not allow him to grow lax in, and he would not allow his son's further temper tantrums get in the way either. Luke was an adult, though he hardly acted like it, and he would deal with this information in a mature fashion befitting a Sith Lord.

Vader had felt Luke's reaction to the nightmare from all the way on the bridge. Luke was powerful, beyond a doubt, and would make an excellent addition to the Dark Side. If only he would see it as such instead of clinging to the weaker side of the Force. Though by the waves he had felt through the ship there was nothing weak about his boy.

Vader hesitated in the hallway. He was starting to grow maudlin. Gross. Thank the stars there was sand nearby or he might start waxing poetic about it. It was shudder inducing.

Quickly finishing his trek to the med bay he waved the droid away and strode to his son's bed. He found himself hesitating once more. Luke was asleep, looking far younger than his age, and for the briefest moment Vader wondered what it would have been like being there as the boy grew up. His first steps...his first word...the first time his Force reflexives kicked in...

He looked almost...angelic...sleeping there so serene.

The moment was broken however when the boy started moaning, furrows growing on his face as he twitched a little, incoherent mumbles spilling from his lips. It snapped Vader out of those dangerous thoughts, reminding him that he wasn't the doting parent, and that he was instead a Master of the Dark Side of the Force. A Master of Evil, as that old fool Kenobi had said before he smote him. More powerful his cybernetic-encased arse.

Deciding enough was enough and he had to remember he was a Sith Lord first and foremost, Vader crossed his arms and drew the Dark Side closer around him, which caused Luke even more obvious discomfort.

"Wake up," Vader snarled.

Luke's ice blue eyes snapped open, blinking away the confusion from the abrupt return to consciousness, before landing on Vader and widening in fear before narrowing in hate. Vader returned with a glare of his own, unseen but obviously felt, as the boy shrank away as he slowly sat up.

"Why have you not eaten?" Vader demanded.

"Oh so now you care?" Luke sneered. "You didn't seem to this morning when you dragged me into training."

"I had assumed you were a big boy and could remember to feed yourself," Vader said sarcastically.

"What the hell was I supposed to do? I'm a prisoner on this damned ship! I can't exactly go visit the canteen now can I?"

"Well you're snarky when you're woken up," Vader observed before mentally cursing himself. He kept letting the boy get to him with his insolence. Vader should be treating the boy like the Rebel he was, no matter his parentage, not bickering back and forth. Thank every bloody thing in the galaxy that he _hadn't_ been there for the brat's teenage years. At least he wasn't a girl.

Now _there_ was a nightmare.

"I'm sorry Lord Your Holiness, should I courtesy?"

Vader clenched his hands to keep from striking the boy again. Why took the precaution he didn't know, it's not like he cared if he hit the boy again or not, but whatever the reason he crossed his arms more firmly to keep them where they were. The boy obviously felt the Dark Lord's growing fury because he quickly shut his mouth and leaned away a little looking wary. If only he always stayed like that.

"You are to return to your room this instant and wait for a droid to bring you a meal," Vader snapped out. "I will come later."

"What about all the other orders you've given me that have been counteracted today?" Luke groaned. "All the training crap?"

Unable to remember everything that he had ordered of the boy Vader had to bite back a groan. "For the time being forget the training orders." He watched in bemusement as Luke did that little twitch thing he always did when an order took effect. The boy's eyes glazed over a little and then he looked confused.

"What were we talking about? Food right?"

Ah. He would have to be careful in his wording of orders. Though perhaps...

"Forget everything all about wanting to be a Jedi," he ordered in his most authoritarian voice.

Luke scoffed. "Yeah right. I'm going to be a Jedi if it's the last thing I do."

Though confused why that didn't work and a little perturbed by both that fact and the boy's apparent conviction, Vader felt his ire rising, and though he refused to acknowledge it he felt just the tiniest inkling of fear as well. If the boy did not turn then he would surely die.

Clenching his fists he brought his arms down to point one finger at Luke threateningly. "It just might boy," he snarled.

"So you keep saying," Luke snapped back. "And yet here I still am. Filled your Rebel death quota this month?"

"I might make the exception for one more. _Now go to your room_!"

Luke was flung off the bed and stumbled a little as he tried to right himself when his body started walking without his control. He twisted his head around to glare at Vader before he the door slid shut behind him hiding his icy blues from view.

Heaving his contorted version of a sigh Vader wished he was in his chamber so he could properly massage his temples. He understood finally what Obi-Wan had meant when he said Anakin would be the death of him. Beneath his mask Vader grimaced. He hoped his feelings were not as prophetic as Kenobi's words.

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Luke kicked the couch once the orders gave him free reign of his body again and did not bother keeping back the several curses in both Basic and Huttese that he knew. How dare Vader send him to his room like a disobedient child.

A sharp stab of pain pierced through him. Stars, how was it possible? He still couldn't fully wrap his mind around the fact that Vader was his...

Grunting Luke collapsed on the couch and just barely refrained from burying his face in his hands. Instead he allowed his head to fall back and stared up at the ceiling lost in thought.

Vader was his father. Luke couldn't disobey him. Literally. Vader was trying to turn him to the Dark Side of the Force, admittedly with some success when Luke allowed his anger to get a hold of him, and yet no matter how many times Vader ordered him Luke felt none of the zinging pull to actively use the Dark Side when told to. Vader controlled his body, undoubtedly, but the very essence of Luke was beyond his grasp.

Luke wished that made him feel better.

For some reason information about the Rebels would not pass his lips despite the orders. They were safe from Luke's unwilling betrayal at least. But there was something else against them. Some kind of spies or something, from what he'd gotten out of Vader, and it was partly his fault. He should have picked something up from those stang pilots. Some Jedi apprentice he was turning out to be.

If only Ben hadn't left him so early on he could have had more practice, could have learned more, could have somehow evaded Vader's poisonous clutches. But...

Then he would never have learned the truth. Somehow he didn't think Ben would have ever told him the truth about his father. Old Ben had already twisted it into a vague meaning, not quite lying, but not being truthful either. Stars, he wasn't prepared for this, not by a long shot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

But he would never submit. Curse Vader and his forefathers. He was a monster and nothing more. He _wasn't_ Luke's father. Anakin Skywalker was and Vader _was not him_. Luke would never accept it, would never give up, would never surrender. Even if it meant his death. He would die for the Rebellion cause and the way of the Light Side of the Force. Vader could break his body but he could never break his mind.

Never.

Feeling a new resolve Luke slowly opened closed eyes, having no memory of ever closing them, and curled his fingers into a fist. He would learn the ways of the Force, the right kind, in his parents' memories. Padmé and Anakin Skywalker. His mom and dad. For Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen too. Whose only crime was keeping Luke safe and buying some droids. For Old Ben, and Leia and Han and Chewie, even for Artoo and Threepio. He was still a Rebel.

And what sons did best was rebel, he thought with a smirk.

The door chimed then and a droid bearing a covered tray entered almost immediately after. Luke caught a white flash of armour before the door slid shut again as one of the Stormtroopers shifted, a reminder of further reminder of his imprisonment, and a further encouragement never to give up.

"Thanks," Luke mumbled getting up and taking the tray from the droid so it could leave. He wondered briefly if he had enough time to fiddle with the droid but an early order was still in effect and he couldn't try anything with the means of escape.

Setting the tray down on the coffee table he lifted the tray and glanced down at the food there. He didn't want to eat but he felt a compulsion to. Not quite as strong as the orders, and he knew Vader hadn't technically told him to eat, only wait for the droid and then Vader himself. It was just assumed. Luke wondered about the varying degrees of orders again.

He could easily overcome the compulsion to eat, he knew, and again when it came to betraying the Rebellion he never felt that zing. However offhand orders to dance or stand on his head had him practically tripping over his feet to act upon just as fiercely as ones about physical training and general obedience.

With practice was there was a possible way to overcome even the strongest orders? Could he eventually escape and rejoin his friends, the only family he had left? He would have to try…after eating. After the waft of the delicious scent hit his nostrils Luke's stomach began grumbling its mighty complaint and out of all the orders, implied or otherwise, eating wasn't the worse thing he could be told to do.

Digging in with gusto, but well aware of the dangers of overindulgence after a fast of any length, Luke moderated his eating speed and made sure he chewed properly before swallowing…even if he didn't want to.

Say what you will about the Empire, the Imps sure did know how to cook up a meal, and if this was what prisoners ate it was a wonder the Emperor wasn't impersonating a Hutt. Then again…maybe pure evil didn't need to eat. Outside of infants and cute baby animals.

The Emperor probably slurped up misery and despair like blue milk.

All Vader needed was probably some oil and spare ship parts.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head Luke focused on eating his meal until he was pleasantly full, the portion of each item more than enough for one individual, even one as hungry as Luke. Though he was reluctant to waste food, something drilled into him even before living on rations for the Rebellion, he knew if he continued eating, he would be sick, and that was something he did not want.

Finally finished, Luke was tempted to leave the dishes scattered and maybe even smear and throw some food around, but he knew Vader would just order him to clean it up and punish him. Probably by reciting the devotional to Grandpa Palpy. Can you say shudder inducing?

Settling onto the spacious couch Luke brought his legs up into the standard meditation pose. Closing his eyes Luke then regulated his breathing and let the outside forces drain away. Everything but what was connected to him. Even the presence of the nearby guards he ignored and blocked out of his concentration. They were unimportant. Even crazy old dead/not-dead Jedi were unimportant and he refused to allow their interference again.

Can't he just have a normal meditation once?

Falling deeper into himself he tried to find that place within him that made him follow orders. Follow Vader's orders. Captain Piett couldn't make him do things, only Vader could, only his…father's murderer. Was that it? Was it because they were—

As if his internal inquiry grabbed its attention, Vader's presence flared within him, much as it had previously. The easy access to it, dark and rancid as it was, was made obvious now. It was also explained. Luke knew why Vader's presence was still there when the guards' were not. They were not connected to Luke. Vader was. In one of the most intimate ways possible.

Luke tried to ignore Vader's presence and push it away from him but the more he denied it the stronger it became. He didn't want to draw the Dork Lord's attention. If he focused too much on the Master Monster he would inevitably turn his own focus on Luke. Something he wished to avoid.

At the same time, however, was his problem not also connected to Vader? Maybe there was a hint, a clue, _something_ in their connection that could help Luke in his endeavour. Without touching upon that connection he tried to examine it further, tried to find start and end points for each of them, while at the same time marvelling at the strength. He didn't know what it meant, exactly, but he could almost imagine a thick cord stretched out between them.

Delving into that brought it into starker contrast and he could again see the tattered robe-like darkness encasing the fiend. He imagined the cord into existence connecting them and almost recoiled at its brilliance. For the briefest moment, the darkness fluttered and a glimpse of equal brilliance shone underneath, physically jolting Luke. The power was intense.

Then, just as quickly, the darkness wrapped tighter around Vader and speedily began creeping up the almost golden cord. Where the darkness touched the cord turned grey and darkened, withering away and in on itself like a vine burning and turning to ash.

A sharp pain seared through Luke again, making his chest seize as if with fiery hot blades that pierced his heart, making him gasp out as his unseeing eyes sprung open. Yellow mingled and swirled with blue as Luke's hands clenched in his pants, though he was lost to the outside world, choking on his breath as it struggled through his lungs.

The Darkness was overpowering…

A Light shone.

Luke gasped again, like a drowning man inhaling that first blissful lungful of air as he broke through the surface of water, scrabbling in the warmth of that blaze that warmed him but did not burn. It gave him the strength to slam shields down on the cord, holding the darkness at bay and letting that golden glow on his side brighten and remind him who he was.

He could imagine it, almost like a frosted window, dissecting the cord in half and yet it was still whole in connection. There was no way Luke could sever the cord as it was not a physical, nor even a mental thing, but rather something that existed in both his and Vader's spirits. Binding them forever as…

Ignoring that thought Luke peered through the glass to see the darkened cord writhing with the tatted robe, thrashing about like it was trying to continue the thread of the dark virus to Luke's side, and yet every once in a while, so seldom and miniscule Luke wondered if he was imagining it, the light trapped within looked like it was valiantly struggling to get out and be free. Luke felt a yearning to help it but he didn't know how. Didn't even understand all that he was seeing and feeling and experiencing.

Letting it go, Luke fell into his own presence again, his physical body relaxing as his breath evened out and his eyes slid closed and his fingers and muscles relaxed in peace. He basked in that strange and yet somehow familiar warmth that had saved him before letting go the concentration to put these things into images and merely floated within it.

After an indiscernible amount of time passed Luke decided to wade out of the pleasant feelings and focus more on what was going on within him. The connection between him and Vader might be dangerous to focus too much on but he could always learn more about his own inner Force workings. Maybe find a way out of this curse.

_Luke…_

Luke's Force awareness zoomed in on that voice and his eyes sprang open again as he was jolted out of meditation in shock and surprise. It couldn't be…but it was!

Leia!

Tapping into the Force again Luke let out of wheeze of breath as he felt her shining presence much too close. He shouldn't have been able to feel her! He shouldn't have been able to hear her. But she was there! Letting go of his inner focus he could also sense the slighter presence of Han and Chewbacca. They seemed dim in comparison to Leia's glow, and with a little extra focused push, he could see and feel the Force swirling around her while it felt normal through Han and Chewie. Did that mean Leia was Force-adept?

That wasn't the time to think about that though! (Except what it might mean if she fell into the hands of the Empire again.) What was most important was the fact that the three of them were _here_!

He knew without a doubt it was for him. They were coming to rescue him. They had come back for him. Even though they knew of the dangers, probably didn't even have evidence that he was alive, and yet they came. His love for them grew if it was at all possible.

And then the horrible realisation. They had come. They were _here_. And so was Vader. Even as he thought it Luke felt Vader's awareness shift and encompass his friends. He knew without a doubt their ship would either be destroyed or pulled into the tractor beam and they would be killed. He had to save them. But how?

He had been ordered not to leave his room without being told!

And yet…that order didn't feel as strong now. As if Vader didn't care about it too much, like when he was more lenient with other orders he had given Luke and then belied them, still present but only just barely stronger than the compulsion to eat. He still very strongly felt the order not to harm or attack the Troopers or officers and so would not be able to incapacitate the guards…

But he had been working on Force speed.

The door wasn't locked. If he managed to break the weak order and move fast enough he may be able to avoid being shot by the Stormtrooper guards. He just hoped his speed was better than their aim. He already had plenty of evidence at their competency with their blasters.

Force help him.

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**Approaching the **_**Executor**_**…**

"I don't know where you came up with those coordinates Princess, but it looks like it was right on the credits."

Leia watched out the viewport as the massive Star Destroyer leisurely made her way through space after coming out of warp. Coincidentally enough. She prayed Luke was safe. She tried not to imagine him wasting away in a cell tortured within an inch of his life. She had had some immunity against the harsher tortures, being the Princess and Senator of Alderaan, but Luke would have none of that. And if they found out he had destroyed the Death Star…

Luke…

But no, she would be strong, and she would find a way of rescuing her friend no matter the consequences.

Her gaze slowly landed on Han sitting next to her, his eyes focused on the Dreadnought before them, and she wondered at the sacrifices she might have to make and if she was strong enough to. How was she to choose between two people she…cared about. Yes, she could admit she cared for Han, though she'd never let the rogue know it. It'd go to his head. But now, when they were possibly flying to their deaths…? Yes, she could admit it now.

She thought about the crazy dream-vision-thing she'd had though she could only vaguely remember it. The coordinates she'd received from it had led them here moments before the _Executor_ dropped out of warp. She watched now as tiny (in comparison) TIE fighters emerged like flies from a dead carcass from the larger ship and began swooping away in apparently no other purpose than flying.

Vader was in one of them. And he was angry.

She didn't know how she knew but she did. She had felt a wave of weakness that had trembled her knees and frantic despair that was not her own eating at her gut just as they reached the destination but had quickly pushed the darker feelings away and focused on the warm knowledge that she would see her friend soon. Vader's anger did nothing to deter her. If anything it made her stronger.

And then, somehow, she knew Vader knew she was there. She had felt his sick presence in her mind before, when he had tortured her aboard the Death Star, and she shuddered as the oily darkness touched upon her again.

Except…there was something different about it this time. The darkness did not feel as strong as it had last time, and for the briefest moment of connection between them she felt a different warmth sing through her like music, before it was shrouded by dark again that chilled her.

Shaking those thoughts aside Leia instead focused on Luke again, imagining she could almost feel him, and she again wished for a moment that she had the Force. How much easier would it be to connect to him had she control of that power?

"Uh-oh," Han said as Chewie roared.

"What _uh-oh_?" Leia dryly asked.

"Looks like they're onto us…they're coming right at us."

"Well looks like the aerial ballet is finished," Leia snorted.

"Any ideas on the course of action _now_ Your Worshipfulness?" Han sarcastically drawled.

"Why are you asking me? Aren't you the experienced pilot?"

"_You're_ the one with all the ideas lately. _You_ get us out of this mess. Shut up Chewie!" he yelled when his co-pilot roared again.

"Master Solo, he is saying—"

"I _know_ what he's saying Goldenrod, now zip it!"

"But I—"

"Not now Threepio," Leia sighed massaging her temples. She knew what had to happened but she didn't like it. She didn't see how it would help any but there was no choice. They had no hope of outfighting or outrunning Vader and his squadron. If they wanted to save Luke…

They had to give themselves up.

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**AN:** Soooooooooo….hello. Ahem.

Hate me?

I've got it up at least! (giggle giggle snort…am I the only one here with a dirty mind?) And yeah, it's a short one (giggle snort snort choke cough giggle), but I wrote that last scene and it just became a perfect place to end it. It even has an evil cliffhanger of doom. I couldn't help myself. I figured, hey these people probably already hate my guts because I suck at updating, so why not make it worse and leave it at an awesome cliffhanger?

To be fair I'm also mad at myself that I still haven't gotten to the scene I wanted. Almost though! Definitely next time. So uh, mazel tov, c'est la vie, feliz cumpleaños. Uh…that is…

Ja ne! heh heh


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